Mend The Bond
by SailOnMyWaywardShip
Summary: Ever since Castiel came back from Heaven, things between him and Dean have been... different, and Dean isn't quite sure what to think. With Lucifer rising and hell all around them, he's afraid that he'll lose everything. (Sequel to Cracks Begin to Show.) M for violence, strong language, and potential slight smut later on. Sabriel somehow manages to sneak in as well.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

A lot had happened the last month or so, and Dean was still processing everything. He wasn't sure how he felt about a lot of things, but that was to be dealt with later because they were a little busy at the moment.

A hoard of demons on their asses counted as being busy, right?

Right.

It's not that Dean was avoiding the conversation that apparently _every damn body_—Bobby, Gabriel, Sam before he was gone—was insisting he and Cas had to have. He was Dean freaking Winchester, he didn't run away. Was he going to enjoy the no-doubt emotional, chick-flicky discussion that Cas was no doubt going to ambush him with as soon as all this Lucifer-demons business was over? Of course not. But he wasn't ready to have that conversation until they had Sam back. That was priority, and Cas understood that, so he was currently the only one _not_ being pushy about things Dean would rather not even think about, let alone discuss.

….okay, so maybe he was avoiding the conversation _a little._ So sue him.

But that wasn't important right now.

Demons. Right.

Being led by his little brother.

Dean sighed and wished things were different. He didn't know what he wanted most of the time, but he knew that he didn't want this. Seeing his brother in that too-white suit, black-eyed and cackling as he ordered their deaths, was enough to make him feel nauseous. He glanced at Cas on his right, only to find intent blue eyes already looking at him in concern, probably wondering how he was handling this. Hardly new—Cas kept forgetting the danger he was in with his diminished powers in favor of worrying about Dean. Dean glared at him, intending to lecture him later—again—but soon they were both busy as the black-eyed sons of bitches charged at them.

There was gleeful cackling to his left, among screams and flashes of red, orange, and gold light, so Dean could safely assume that Gabriel was enjoying smiting demons with his archangelic mojo. It was eerily silent to his right, save for the occasional grunt of pain from Cas or an enraged snarl from a demon, but Dean knew Cas could handle himself so he tried not to worry. Cas would be pissed at him if he got distracted and hurt.

Now this, this was his forte, and Dean found himself settling into the familiar battle mode as he ducked, dodged, and ganked. It was times like this that he wished he'd put more work into memorizing the exorcism, but that had always been Sam's part. He was the book-smart nerdy hunter that came up with clever ways to deal with the things they fought, while Dean tended to do more of the manual parts.

He couldn't count on Sam though. Not now.

That…that hurt.

The only thing that hurt worse was the agonized cry that almost stopped his heart because he knew that sound. Without his permission, his eyes snapped to the right to see Castiel holding his side, blood oozing between his fingers, staining the white shirt he insisted on wearing. The demon yanked its knife from Cas' side and shoved him, and Dean felt his throat dry up when the former angel of the lord collapsed on his side in an unconscious heap. A strangled cry escaped his throat, because there were no words to describe how his world felt like it was coming apart at the seams.

He'd lost his mom, his dad, and his brother. He couldn't lose Cas, too.

He tried to run to Cas, forgetting about the demons around him. He paid dearly for his inattention when they swarmed him with gleeful cackles, pulling and tearing and clawing at any part of him they could reach. It brought back awful flashbacks from his time in Hell, and Dean shuddered, forcing himself to focus on the here and now instead of the slowly growing pool of blood around his best friend. Distantly, he registered Gabriel and Sam's voices, and he could only assume that the archangel was going after Lucifer-Sam as they'd planned. Dean had to focus, though, had to stay alive.

Pulling out the knife Ruby had given him, Dean slashed blindly, and was rewarded with several shrieks of pain and a little breathing room as the demons retreated, glaring at him with hate in their eyes. The vicious smiles on their faces sent chills up his spine and Dean's brain went into panicked adrenaline mode. He didn't think, just acted, and in only a few minutes he was surrounded by bodies, panting, covered in blood spatter that was a mix of his and his vanquished enemies'. He shuddered and limped over to Cas, the distant battle of Gabriel and Lucifer not even registering on his consciousness.

He felt cold all over when he saw all the blood. _No human…no human can survive that, _he thought weakly. He stubbornly shoved that thought aside, though, refusing to consider it, because this was _not _just 'some human', this was _Cas,_ Castiel, former angel of the Lord. He may have lost his grace and a lot of his abilities, but he still healed more rapidly than anyone he knew. He was going…he _had _to be okay.

He knelt down, ignoring the blood soaking through his jeans, and gently felt for a pulse, almost sobbing in relief when he felt a small flutter against his fingers. It was weak, but it was there, and that almost surely meant that Cas was going to be fine. He wouldn't relax, though, until he saw those blue eyes open, so he began to shake Cas' shoulder.

"Cas, buddy, come on. You gotta wake up," he said hoarsely. His throat still felt too dry, and he was still cold all over. Was he shivering? Damn, he was. And he hurt all over—his ankle was sprained at least, and his shoulder was throbbing like a bitch, not to mention he was sporting several bruises and cuts all over.

All that faded to nothing, though, when a small whimper came from Cas' throat. The eyes didn't open but he was alive, and that was all that mattered. Dean carefully got to his feet, ignoring the throbbing protest from his ankle, and slid his arms under Cas, intending to carry him out if he had to. They couldn't just leave him here, he needed to get somewhere safe so he could heal up.

With a small grunt and a wince, hunter lifted up ex-angel, staggering just a little under the sudden weight. He could do this, he insisted to himself through gritted teeth. He began to slowly limp away, heading in the general direction of the Impala. His progress was agonizingly slow, but it was progress.

He was about halfway to his baby when everything went abruptly silent, and it was only then that Dean remembered there was still a battle going on outside his internal chaos. The silence could only mean that it was over, and that meant…who had won?

Dean was afraid to turn around and see, but he was also dying to know. Slowly, wincing and clenching his jaw around the pain, he turned, green eyes scanning the battlefield they'd made of the once-beautiful meadow. There was only one person standing besides himself.

Sam.

No—Lucifer, Dean reminded himself. That wasn't his brother.

Dean cursed under his breath as the wicked grin stretched across his brother's face, black eyes taunting him. Gabriel was dangling from his hand, and Sam—Lucifer—tossed him aside carelessly. The archangel twitched a little when he landed, so he was alive. But incapacitated, for God only knew how long.

_Probably just long enough for me and Cas to die, _Dean thought sourly. Not that he intended to go out without a fight, but he was only human and he couldn't protect both himself and Cas from the devil himself. It was beginning to look like this really was the end.

Movement in his arms caused him to look down, and he was pleasantly surprised when blue eyes met his, concern and confusion familiar in their sapphire depths. His arms tightened around Cas for a moment—he only just registered that his muscles were starting to shake from the effort of holding him up—before the angel squirmed to his feet. Flicking an anxious glance to Lucifer, the hunter saw him strolling towards him at a leisurely pace, glancing around at the massacre with an amused smirk.

_Of course the son of a bitch would enjoy this destruction,_ the hunter thought furiously, hot fury sweeping through him. A light touch on his arm distracted him, and he turned to look again at Cas.

The ex-angel looked resigned, and sad.

"Dean…I don't think we can fight him," he murmured. Something twisted painfully inside Dean at the admission.

"You're probably right, Cas. But see, I refuse to accept that. I'm going to go down fighting." He had no doubt that he was going to go down, though, not that Cas needed to know that. Something in those sad blue eyes told him that he already knew, though, and it hurt.

_Damn it,_ he thought, wondering when this stupid little man had wormed his way so deep inside Dean. He didn't like _feeling _so much for anyone, besides Sammy. Sam was gone, now, though. All he had left was Cas.

"Of course, Dean. I will fight with you," he promised.

"Can you?" Dean arched an eyebrow, looking pointedly at the blood staining his shirt.

"I am as fit to fight as you are," Castiel said, giving Dean a pointed look as well, and the hunter had to admit he was probably right. Besides, he couldn't send the angel away—Lucifer would only hunt him down and kill him, and Dean would rather go down with Cas, one last battle side-by-side.

"Let's do this, then," he said, clapping Cas on the shoulder. They turned to find Lucifer only a foot away, watching them with sardonic mirth.

"Oh, don't stop on my account. You two are really so cute together, it's sickeningly sweet." He laughed, and it only made Dean angrier.

"You son of a bitch," he growled low in his throat, further enraged by the amused smirk the devil sent his way. "Give me back my brother and maybe we'll let you live," he said arrogantly, grip tightening on the hilt of his knife. Cas shuffled uncomfortably at his side, and Dean moved to stand protectively in front of him, ignoring the noise of protest and the fingers trying to drag him back.

"That's so cute, Dean. You think you're going to survive this? Please. You'll be back in Hell before long—you had so much fun down there, I'm sure Alistair will welcome you back. You were his favorite protégée. As for _you,_" the black eyes shifted over his shoulder, and Dean sensed Castiel tensing up behind him, "I have no idea where you'll go, brother. Perhaps purgatory? I highly doubt you'll be welcomed back to Heaven." He laughed cruelly again, and Dean felt nauseous and furious because those were low blows.

"Brother, it doesn't have to be this way," Cas' weak voice suggested. "Just let Sam go, and we can…we can…"

"We can what, Castiel? Talk to Michael? I can spend the next several millennia, perhaps eternity, in celestial bondage? No, thank you. I'd rather just kill you both and have fun destroying the planet."

"Well you have to go through us first," Dean interjected before Cas could say anything else.

"With pleasure," Lucifer assured him, sauntering forward, and that was when it hit Dean that this was really real. He was probably going to die, and Cas with him. He'd never see Sam again. He felt sickeningly dizzy for a moment, but then a small warm hand slipped into his and squeezed, and Dean remembered he wasn't alone. He had Cas, and that was all he needed for now.

Dean squeezed back, and together, hunter and former angel rushed into their final battle.

* * *

**[A/N: Well, there you have it. This is the prologue, and it's just the beginning: a hint of what's to come. And can I just say how glad I am to have this out so quickly? Man oh man I love spring break! ANYWAYS, what did you think about this for the beginning? Good, bad? Too much, too little? Drop a review and let me know okay? I want feedback from you guys!]**

**[On a different note: Special thanks to I'mTheDreamAssasin and Laura Messer, your comments on CBTS were great for me to read! :) You guys rock and I hope you enjoy this first installment in MTB. I'm going to keep writing all day, so hopefully there'll be the first chapter up soon. Keep an eye out, guys, and DFTBA!]**

**-Makky**


	2. Sleepless in Kentucky

**Chapter 1**

_ Pain. Pain that cut deep, that tore and burned like acid, ripping him apart and crushing him and shattering his bones. Pain that never stopped, not even for a millisecond. The pain was the one constant that he could count on, here in Hell. The torturers, the methods, the scenery, all of that changed frequently. But the pain was always there. He would almost be numb to it, if it weren't so exquisite. Each fresh wave of agony drew an agonized scream from him._

_They tied him to the rack, and they would slice and cut and burn and break until there was nothing left they could do to him. Each scream earned a gleeful cackle, and he screamed until his voice was gone, until the only sound he could make was a hoarse whimper. Sometimes it was a faceless demon—Dean preferred those, because they were better than the others. His father, his mother, Sam…when they were the ones to use the torture on him, the pain was worse for the betrayal. Those were the times that he cried, hot salty tears stinging sharply in the fresh cuts on his face._

_It went on for so long Dean would have lost track, if not for Alistair. Alistair, who came at the end of each day to fix him good as new, so he'd be all set for a fresh round of torture the next day, and who always informed him how long it had been. Who always had an offer for Dean, an offer he couldn't accept without losing some part of himself that he was desperately clinging to because it was all he had left._

"_It's been ten years, Dean. You can end this—no one will hurt you, and all you have to do is get off the rack. Put other souls on."_

"_Go fuck yourself," Dean would spit each time, voice raspy and hoarse. He would shudder and take a few moments to look at his clean, unmarked flesh before he was slammed back on the rack and the pain came right back, his screams ringing fresh through Hell as they cut open his stomach and took their sweet time carving him out like a pumpkin on Halloween, pulling out intestines, spleens, livers. They seemed to enjoy informing him, over his tormented cries, that he wouldn't be needing those. _

_It went on, for thirty years. Thirty years, according to Alistair, of demons ripping him apart to nothing. Thirty years of _being _nothing, nothing but a screaming sobbing heap that was powerless to do anything against the creatures he'd once hunted. He was weak, powerless…he was nothing_

_Dean Winchester was broken._

_That was the night he accepted Alistair's request. They pulled him off the rack, and all the pain was gone. He was brand new, skin unmarked, and while he could still remember the pain, it no longer affected him. Alistair handed him a knife, and suddenly there was another soul—a stranger to Dean, with panic and confusion in their eyes, babbling about how there had to be some mistake—on the rack he had so recently vacated. Dean looked uncertain—until he remembered that that soul could easily be him._

_Maybe this soul didn't deserve it, but neither did Dean._

_The ceaseless babbling irritated him, so he cut out the tongue first. The screaming bothered him, so he pretended it was some monster—like old times. And just like that, he could do his job. He cut, and sliced, and with Alistair watching and tutoring, he became more precise. He ripped and broke, and he learned where it hurt the most with practice. After five short years—time passed so much more quickly when you were the one inflicting pain rather than receiving it—Dean even learned to enjoy it. There was a certain artistry to carving up these souls, the way the blood would pool. Each scream was different, and it became like a symphony as he drew the sounds from his helpless victims. He even took pride in his work. He didn't even notice how dark everything around him had become, because he was engrossed in his task._

_Then the light came, painfully bright. It brought back memories of fire and pain, and it had Dean screaming, fighting as it surrounded him, blinded him. It burned where it touched him, and he shuddered and cried out._

"_Alistair! We had a deal!" he said desperately. "You—you said no more…I don't deserve this!" he screamed._

_But Alistair was nowhere to be seen. In fact, Dean couldn't see anything but the light. It didn't hurt as much, now, but it was still uncomfortably bright. The light then moved inside him, coalescing, surrounding what was broken and mending it, reminding Dean of the man he used to be, and he began to sob as he looked at what he had become. What fresh torture was this? What had he done to deserve this? He just wanted it all to stop. He moaned in despair as the light caressed him, carrying him away to God only knew what fresh torment awaited him—_

* * *

Dean awoke with a gasp, shuddering and coated in cold sweat. He sat up, raking his shaking hands through his hair, trying to banish the memories.

He hadn't thought about Hell in a long time. He'd gotten good at banishing the memories. But sometimes, in his dreams, he found himself back, and the pain and terror—the despair—would fill him, and it's like only days had passed, rather than a year and a half.

Dean didn't know how much more he could take. He closed his eyes, but that brought back gruesome images so he wrenched them open again, feeling sick, and he lurched to his feet, stumbling to the bathroom. He heaved over the toilet, the painful fluorescent light of the motel's bathroom reminding him of the end of the dream. He had long ago figured out that that had been Castiel, saving him. The light…must have been his grace, and while painfully bright, it had been beautiful. After several minutes, he was able to calm down, and he went to the sink, splashing cold water on his face as he exhaled shakily.

He glared at his reflection, green eyes tired but closed off.

"Get it together," he snapped at himself, flipping the lights off, not wanting to look at his reflection another second.

"Dean?" came the soft, sleepy voice from the other bed. Dean froze halfway back to his own bed.

"Sammy? You awake?" Please god let him not have been awake for that…

A yawn set him at ease. "What's going on? You okay?"

"I'm fine, Sam," he said gruffly. "Just had to take a leak—go back to sleep." He flopped on his bed, not intending to sleep any time soon, but Sam didn't need to know that. He waited for the soft snores to start up again, but they didn't.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Sam asked him tentatively, and Dean could hear him starting to sit up. "You know you can talk to me, if you need to…"

No. No, he couldn't. He couldn't tell Sam about Hell, what he'd done…what he'd become. He couldn't bear how Sam would look at him if he knew. Sam wouldn't be disgusted, he knew that. But he would look at Dean with pity, and Dean couldn't accept that. He was the older brother—he took care of Sam, he was the strong one, he didn't need or accept pity. He'd handle it on his own.

"I said I'm fine, Sam," he said, and if his voice was a bit snippier than necessary Sam could attribute that to the late hour—the glowing green numbers of the clock on the nightstand informed him it was 2:17 a.m.—"Go back to sleep." He punched his pillow and rolled on his side, hoping Sam would take the hint.

A weary sigh followed by the creak of the bed put him at ease. Soon, Sam was snoring, and Dean relaxed again, settling in for the long night ahead.

* * *

When the sun rose, filling their room with pale light that filtered through the thin curtains on the windows, so did he. Sam was still out like a light—poor kid rarely slept so Dean didn't have the heart to wake him. Instead, he scribbled a note saying he was going out to get breakfast, shrugging on his jacket and getting in his baby. It was a short drive to the nearest diner, and before long Dean was sipping coffee, a steaming plate of pancakes and bacon set before him. He stifled a yawn, waiting for the caffeine to kick in, and searched for a topic to distract himself from the terror demanding his attention.

He could think about the Lucifer Problem, as Gabriel liked to call it, but that wasn't much better. Dean didn't like to dwell on his brother being the devil's vessel any more than he liked to think about Michael, so he shoved all those thoughts roughly aside. Maybe it would be better just not to think…yeah, not thinking sounded pretty good. So the hunter closed his eyes and focused on nothing in particular, just clearing his mind. His tense shoulders loosened just a little, and the only thing that disturbed his peace was a familiar rustle of feathers.

He opened his eyes to find himself staring into blue.

"Hey, Cas. Gabriel drop you off?" he inquired casually, voice a bit hoarse. He took another sip of coffee as the former-angel studied him, head tilted to one side. Dean felt his lips curling up at the familiar gesture—Cas had changed a lot the last couple of months, but some things never changed.

"Yes," he finally responded, seeming to remember Dean had asked him a question. He didn't elaborate, though, just kept staring at Dean.

"Well. How was, um…what were you doing again?"

"We were testing my diminished abilities, trying to figure out what I am still capable of and what is no longer possible for me to do."

"Okay, so, what'd you learn?" Dean asked, curious, trying not to get distracted by those intense blue eyes locked on his.

"Well, I can no longer fly, nor can I heal others," the ex-angel reported, face twisting with frustration. "However I can still hear my brothers—" He tapped his forehead and Dean nodded in understanding, thinking that might come in handy. "—and I can still heal at a rapid race."

"Okay, how about needs like food and sleep and stuff? Is that an issue?" Dean wondered.

Cas looked uncomfortable, and Dean felt a bit like an ass for reminding him of how human he was now, but they needed to know to take care of the guy. After a moment, he nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. Gabriel believes my need will not be as great as yours, but I will still have to sleep and eat more frequently than before." He grimaced, and Dean recalled the last time Cas had needed food before quickly shoving it aside—that wasn't something he liked to dwell on.

"Well, are you hungry right now?" Dean asked instead, only just remembering he had his own food in front of him. It was almost cold, and Dean found he'd lost his appetite, so when Cas reluctantly nodded, Dean pushed his plate over to him. "Well here, eat up."

"Dean I can't take your food—" he protested, but the hunter waved his arguments aside with a roll of his eyes.

"I'm not that hungry anyways, Cas. I'll be fine."

"If you are not hungry then why did you order food?" he asked, head tilting, dark blue eyes studying him with concern. Dean had no doubt that they saw the shadows under his eyes, but Cas hopefully knew by now that it was better not to ask. He'd been around once or twice when Dean had had similar episodes, and Dean always refused to talk about it after.

"I just wanted to get out of the motel, stretch my legs a little, I guess." Dean shrugged and hoped Cas would drop it. Thankfully, he did, opting instead to pick up a fork and knife and attack the pancakes. Dean smiled and offered him maple syrup, hiding a laugh at his perplexed look as he explained, "You pour it over the pancakes—it makes them taste sweeter."

Nodding in comprehension, the ex-angel proceeded to drench his pancakes in syrup, not seeming to mind when it got all over his bacon, too. Dean watched him in amusement, sipping his coffee, feeling more alert as the caffeine finally reached his system and worked its magic. Syrup dribbled down Castiel's chin, but he didn't seem to notice. Snickering, Dean grabbed a napkin and reached across to wipe it away before it could drip onto his shirt. Cas paused, looking at him in confusion, and Dean shrugged.

"You had syrup on your face," was all he said, unsure why he suddenly felt uncomfortable. He dropped his arm, looking away as Cas' face flushed in embarrassment. He always got so flustered when he couldn't quite manage simple tasks like eating or tying his tie, and it never failed to amuse Dean. He liked watching the pale skin flush red, chin ducking as he would smile sheepishly. It was oddly…endearing, Dean found.

Wait, what? No, that wasn't right. He just thought it was funny that a once-all-powerful being now struggled with something he'd been doing all his life. Yeah, that was all.

Shaking his head to clear it of his thoughts, Dean glanced back to see the ex-angel finishing his bacon. "You finished?" he asked, standing when the Cas nodded and tossing some money on the counter. "Come on, let's get back to the motel—Gabriel's probably tormenting Sam into the world of the waking and he won't be happy."

The archangel took a special kind of joy in waking up his younger brother in all kinds of fun ways—Sam was still grumpy about the confetti bomb—but Dean only found it funny when he was already awake and got to watch. It was just annoying when Gabriel's antics woke him, too.

Walking out to the Impala with Cas, Dean wondered what kind of mess he'd find back at the motel.

* * *

Well, he wasn't disappointed. Although Dean was slightly surprised to find his brother bare-chested, chasing a giggling archangel around the room with seemingly murderous intent. Dean paused in the doorway, arching an eyebrow at Cas, wondering if they should interrupt. At his helpless shrug, Dean shook his head and stepped inside with him, closing the door behind them. When Sam and Gabriel didn't even acknowledge his presence, Dean wondered what the archangel had done this time.

Clearing his throat, Dean said loudly, "Are we interrupting?"

Sam froze, then turned slowly to glare at Dean and Cas. "I'm going out," he announced with a growl, grabbing a black t-shirt and yanking it on before stalking out the door, slamming it behind him. Dean turned to Gabriel, arching his eyebrows. Gabe raised his hands and was already talking a mile a minute, defending himself before they could even ask.

"It honestly wasn't that bad, I swear! He's over-reacting. How was I supposed to know that waking up to a clown face would freak him out so badly? Honestly though, you should have seen his face, I've never seen eyes widen so fast. He sure woke up quickly!"

"Gabriel," Dean sighed, pinching his nose. He refused to laugh. Yes, Sam's fear of clowns was kind of funny, especially considering all the awful things they'd fought that were way worse than people wearing makeup, big shoes, and fake noses. "Did you know Sam is terrified of clowns before waking him up like that?"

Gabriel shook his head, crossing his heart. "I didn't, I swear!" There was laughter in his honey-gold eyes, but there was also something more serious—concern? He didn't like when Sam was mad at him, so it was feasible.

Dean sighed. "Just…don't do it again. I'll go talk to him."

"Maybe I should—?" Gabriel began, looking almost hopeful, but it quickly turned to annoyance when Dean cut him off.

"No, trust me. It'll go better if I do it. Cas, stay with your brother and…try to keep him from doing too much damage, okay?" Dean said, already heading for the door. He barely caught Cas' not and "Of course" before he was out the door. He barely had to look five seconds before he spotted Sam's lanky figure perched on the hood of the Impala, staring into the distance with a scowl on his face. Dean sighed and sat by him, prepared for the usual "I know he annoys you but he's useful to have around" speech, but Sam lifted one hand in a mute request for him to lay off, so instead Dean grabbed a couple of beers from the seat, offering one to Sam.

He arched an eyebrow, to which Dean shrugged and said "It's 2 a.m. somewhere." Sam sighed and nodded taking the beer and twisting the lid off and taking a swig. Dean followed suit, waiting until Sam was ready to talk.

After several moments, he sighed. "I know what you're going to say, Dean. I've heard it before and I know you're right."

Dean arched an eyebrow again. "Okay, so what am I going to say, Sammy?"

Sam sent him bitchface #17, the one reserved for when he was being especially irritating but Sam wasn't really in the mood to tell him so, and Dean smirked. Sam's voice dropped in what was supposedly an imitation of his older brother's as he said gruffly, "I know he irritates you, Sammy. Hell he gets on my nerves, too. But he's helping us keep under angel radar, not to mention Cas, so he's worth having around."

"I don't sound like that!" Dean objected, shoving his brother, but he was laughing as Sam rolled his eyes.

"That's how I hear you! Anyways, I know Gabriel is useful to have around. I just…wish he wasn't so antagonistic, is all. Really, a clown? That's just too much at eight in the morning." He scowled again, and Dean stifled a snicker as he thought of his brother's phobia being brought to life by Gabriel. Sam would definitely not appreciate being laughed at right now. Well, he never seemed to appreciate Dean's teasing, but he usually tolerated because he knows that it's how Dean shows affection. But right now it was probably better to wait until Sam had calmed down before he started poking fun at him.

"Yeah, his antics can be a bit much," Dean agreed, drinking his beer. Sam snorted, rolling his eyes, and threw the bottle once it was empty. They both watched it shatter on the concrete, the sun catching the glass, making it shine glaringly. Dean looked away as unpleasant memories tried to resurface. "You gonna be okay?" he asked.

"I'll be fine," Sam muttered, sighing. Dean glanced back at his younger brother, noticing for the first time the shadows under his eyes. He realized he might not be the only one who was having nightmares.

"You been sleeping okay? Other than the obnoxious wake-up calls from the archangel?" Dean added at Sam's derisive snort. Sam avoiding his eyes as he shrugged was answer enough. "What's eatin' atcha, kid?"

"It's nothing, Dean," he mumbled, glaring at the shining shards of glass. "Don't worry about it."

"The fact that you say that is proof that there's something that needs worrying about," Dean replied lightly, but his stomach was churning. God, what now? Was he dreaming about Lucifer again? Or was there some new crap to be added on to their already-way-too-full plates? Sam didn't want to talk about it, but Dean needed to know what was happening so he could do whatever needed to be done to take care of the issue. "Come on, Sam, just tell me."

"Just forget about it, Dean. Let's just go find the next case or whatever," Sam muttered, pushing off the hood and heading back to the motel room, probably to grab his bags. He was halfway there before Gabriel busted out with their stuff, practically skipping to the Impala, a bemused Castiel in his wake.

"Hiya, Samsquatch, Dean-o," he called brightly as he shoved their bags in the trunk, pushing aside all the weapons. Sam watched in irritation, because he'd spent an entire weekend developing an organizational system so everything would fit neatly in the trunk of the car and now everything was just getting shoved inside by that infuriating archangel—

"Sorry about the clown thing, Sam," Gabriel said to him conversationally, earnest honey-gold eyes meeting hazel. Dean watched, guiding Cas away from the potential confrontation by tugging on the sleeve of his trench coat, as Sam's jaw clenched, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. He looked away and muttered, "Just don't do it again," and Dean sighed in relief, knowing that things would be okay as long as Gabriel kept the clown stuff to a minimum. Dean kicked the archangel as he passed, scowling, and the archangel gave an aggrieved eye-roll before looking back at Sam with wide eyes.

"I won't use your coulrophobia against you, Sam, I promise," he said, grabbing Sam's hand and—ignoring the young hunter's attempts to jerk away or the slight redness creeping up his face—latched onto his pinky. "See? Promise."

"Yeah right," Sam mumbled, yanking his hand away. "Can we just go already?" Without waiting for an answer, he got in the car and slammed the door. A moment later Gabriel was seated beside him in the back seat, Castiel was riding passenger, and Dean—of course—was driving. Tensions in the back were high as Sam glared out the window and Gabriel looked at him imploringly, knowing Sam wouldn't stay mad forever, but that was normal.

Dean was almost used to having the trouble-making archangel around, and even though he still didn't completely like him, Cas seemed to enjoy having his older brother stick around, not to mention he was helping them evade Michael and Lucifer's armies that were after them, so Dean was willing to tolerate his presence. For now, anyways. He wasn't sure how much longer Sam would put up with it, though.

"Where are we headed, Sam?" Dean asked, catching his brother's eye in the rearview mirror. Tired green met weary hazel, and they shared a moment of mutual understanding before the elder had to refocus on the road, not wanting to crash his precious baby.

"Detroit, Michigan," was all he said, prompting a frown from Dean and mystified glances from Cas and Gabe. Sam was looking out the window again, avoiding everyone's eyes, and Dean felt something uneasy settle into him.

"Why Detroit?" he asked, trying to hide his unease. He felt Cas watching him, probably sensing his disquiet, but he shook head mutely, asking Cas not to comment on it. The ex-angel held his silence and Dean exhaled quietly in relief, not quite a sigh, waiting for his brother to answer.

Sam could feel everyone's eyes on him: earnest, intent honey-gold from Gabriel; confused, serious blue from Castiel; and flickering emerald green from his brother, staring him down whenever he could afford to take his eyes off the road. It was making him twitchy, feeling like a specimen under the microscope. He could only take it for a few minutes before mumbling, "Case. Might be Pestilence."

"Alright, well, care to elaborate?" Dean prodded, wondering what was bugging him so bad.

"People dying. Puking their guts up—literally. Or procuring a multitude of diseases that overloads their immune system so it shuts down. Either way I'm pretty sure it's our kind of thing," Sam said, shrugging.

"Sounds like it. Could easily be Pestilence. What do you think?" Dean added to the angels, meeting Gabriel's eyes in the mirror and then flicking his gaze to Cas, who was frowning at his brother. After a moment they both nodded, and Cas looked back at Dean.

"We believe it is the horseman Pestilence," he confirmed. "Well, alright then. Five-hour drive to Michigan from Kentucky it is," Dean decided, stepping down on the gas pedal. The car lurched a bit as they sped ahead, and Dean couldn't help grinning a little as she purred down the highway. The startled yelp to his right, followed quickly by an amused snort and unamused grunt in the back, told him that his passengers weren't necessarily enjoying the ride as much as he was.

They coasted down the highway on the way to their next case, and Dean could only hope that it would go as smoothly as the road flying underneath baby's tires.

* * *

**[A/N: Well look at that! Beginning of MTB and another chapter in the same day! I'm on a roll, guys! :D I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this for the beginning of the story but it's the best I got. How about you, though? My audience's thoughts are very important to me! Please leave a review to let me know!]**

**-Makky**


	3. Realization

**Chapter 2**

_**Gabriel**_

Gabriel, the only one of them immune to Pestilence's affects, was watching in amusement as Dean and Sam argued over who got to shower first as he played absently with the horseman's ring. Each was covered in blood they'd coughed up and looked fairly nasty, so each had an equal claim to the shower, it seemed.

Dean, while desperate to wash away any leftover taint of the horseman, thought Cas should go first. Sam just wanted to get the sticky mucus off of his skin and trying to convince Dean that Cas was the one who needed to shower least of all because he was the closest to being immune after Gabriel. And Cas was trying to insist that Dean go first, because…well everyone but Dean knew why, really. But he was drowned out by the bickering brothers, and eventually the former seraph came to settle by the archangel, sighing wearily.

"They really wear ya out, huh?" Gabriel asked, directing a wicked grin at his younger brother. Cas just nodded and watched the Winchesters argue. After a few moments, he turned to Gabriel with a small frown.

"Can you not just use your grace to clean them and end this nonsense, Gabriel?" he asked, eyes narrowing slightly when the archangel grinned wickedly at him.

"Okay okay, caught me. I just wanted to see how long it would take them to figure it out," he told Cas with a snicker. At the younger angel's disapproving frown, he raised his hands in surrender and snapped his fingers, and in a blink of an eye they were all in pristine condition, not a speck of dirt, blood, or grime to be found on them.

Neither hunter seemed to notice and continued squabbling, although they seemed to have drifted slightly from who got to shower. They were talking over each other, so neither Gabriel or Castiel could clearly hear what was going on, but both caught the words "Lucifer" and something about dreams, and Dean very distinctly yelled over Sam, "Because it's bad idea, Sam!" which was quickly rebuffed by Sam's "You're not the boss of me, Dean!"

The longer they let this go on, the more sure Gabriel was that someone was going to throw a punch soon if there wasn't an intervention. With barely a thought and a smidge of grace, both Winchesters and Castiel had their hands over their ears as Gabriel was yelling into a megaphone.

"Alrighty, boys, that's enough," he bellowed, earning scowls from all three of his companions. Grinning unrepentantly, he lowered the megaphone. "Hey, someone had to do something and Cassy wasn't stepping up to plate, so I took it into my own hands."

Cas sent a grimace at Gabriel for the nickname, and Dean was still glaring at Sam, but the younger hunter seemed relieved to just be clean. He took one look at his livid brother and mumbled that he was going to get a separate room.

"Four's a crowd, so I'll get my own room and you guys can just…do whatever," he told them as he grabbed his bag, avoiding all eye contact. Gabriel felt his eyes narrowing, and he could sense Castiel's concern and Dean's worry underneath his irritation.

"I'll go with you, Samsquatch," Gabriel said as casually as he could, ignoring the looks of relief and suspicion from Cas and Dean, focusing his steady gaze on the hazel eyes that snapped to his as soon as he spoke. Honey-gold narrowed in determination, hazel softened in resignation, and Gabriel knew that he had won. With a slightly triumphant grin, he waved cheerily to the others and trekked out to the lobby with the gargantuan, whistling cheerily at his side.

* * *

_**Dean**_

Now alone in their room, Dean turned to Cas, unsurprised to find those blue eyes already watching him. Those damn blue eyes were always watching him, and Dean could swear that there was a question in his eyes, but he didn't know what Cas was asking…didn't know what he _wanted. _They'd known each other for almost a year and a half now, and the guy was still a mystery to him. All that staring, though, was almost enough to have him crawling up the wall.

"Well…" He said, looking away quickly and running a hand through his hair. Out of the corner of his eye he just caught the familiar head tilt and he barely resisted looking to see the quizzical look he knew would be in those oceanic depths. "I guess we should sleep," he said, grabbing his sleep clothes out of the duffel and making a beeline for the bathroom, locking the door behind him.

Once he was safely locked away—_Safe from what? From Cas? As if Cas would ever hurt you, idiot,_ he thought scornfully to himself—he leaned against the door and closed his eyes, listening quietly to the sounds of Cas rustling and moving around on the other side, presumably getting ready for bed himself. He was probably as tired as Dean after helping Gabriel cut off Pestilence's ring. The idea of Cas in bed had Dean feeling uncomfortably warm and…no, not going there. Cas was his best friend, that was all.

Dean shoved all those thoughts roughly aside, glaring at his reflection in the mirror before looking away as he began to change quickly. He was careful to avoid looking at the handprint scar on his bicep, not wanting any reminder of the ex-angel in the other room. After quickly brushing his teeth and splashing water on his face, Dean steeled himself and unlocked the door, going back to the other room only to have Cas breeze by him—Dean almost froze when he felt Cas' warm chest brush against his—and slip into the bathroom himself. Dean puffed out an exhale as he heard the sink running and sank onto the bed nearest the door where he'd set his bag, wondering what the hell was wrong with him. He was Dean freaking Winchester, he didn't fall apart over some guy.

_Cas isn't just 'some guy',_ his traitorous mind whispered to him.

"Shut up," he growled under his breath, and then immediately wanted to bite his tongue. _Talking to yourself is one of the first signs of madness, Winchester, _he thought derisively. And then he realized he was still talking to himself and thought he might be more tired than he realized. He got off the bed to pull back the covers, then flopped down with a groan, closing his eyes, hoping that for once he would just sleep.

The sound of the bathroom door opening had him going tense, but he didn't open his eyes. There was a soft shuffle of feet, and then the room got dark—Dean could tell even with his eyes closed that Cas had turned off the lights—and then another shuffle of feet, before the creak of the bed next to Dean's and the rustle of the bedspread, probably Cas snuggling up.

The only sound now was their quiet breathing.

Dean was grateful that Cas hadn't tried to talk. He was probably as tired as Dean was, so it was hardly surprising he'd hit the hay. Then again, Cas always seemed to know what Dean needed and was always willing to give it—no matter what it cost him, Dean thought with a wince. Cas…Cas was good to him, Dean knew that. Better than he deserved, really. Always had been.

He'd been…different lately, though. Not bad different, exactly, just…different. Dean couldn't help but notice an increase in the staring, how Cas always sat a bit too close when they were anywhere that allowed it. Or how the angel seemed eager to find any excuse to be in Dean's company.

It was freaking weird. Sometimes it almost had Dean wondering…

Dean stopped that thought cold. He was a soul that Castiel had rescued from Hell on God's command—the Righteous Man, Michael's intended vessel. And yeah, he and Cas were friends. Good friends, but just that. Friends.

Even hoping for anything else would be too painful. Dean lost everyone—if he let himself care for Cas that much…and he lost Cas…it would break him, he knew it would. There would be no coming back from that.

_And there's the issue,_ Dean thought to himself wearily, listening to Cas' quiet breathing across the room. _You're afraid of your feelings because you're afraid to lose him. You're a moron._

The fear was undeniable, though. Nobody was safe. Even caring for Sam was a risk—Dean had lost his soul because he couldn't bear the idea of life without Sam, he couldn't. Now just the idea of losing Cas was almost as excruciating.

When had this little angel wormed his way so deep inside of Dean? And how could Dean get him out?

Dean had no frigging clue, and he hated that. But it was late, and he was tired—there was nothing to be done for it now. Dean closed his eyes, and allowed himself to drift off into sleep.

* * *

_**Castiel**_

As soon as Dean's breathing deepened, Castiel rolled onto his side and cracked an eyelid open to peer at the hunter. His depleted grace allowed him to still see better than the average human could in the dark, so he had no trouble making out his features. Even in sleep he was tense—nightmares, Castiel knew. He didn't know what Dean dreamed of that frightened him so, but he could guess. He had been around once or twice when the man had screamed himself awake, and Castiel hated feeling so helpless.

It was his fault that he couldn't protect Dean from his subconscious anymore.

When he had been a full-fledged angel, his intact grace had been able to shield Dean from the worst of his memories while he slept so that the few hours he got were peaceful, even pleasant ones. Now, Castiel could barely function himself, and he could do almost nothing for Dean.

He hated being so powerless.

He watched Dean sleep—even though he knew Dean thought it was 'stalker-ish' and creepy—ready to wake him the instant he showed any sign of distress. The longer the hunter was out, though, the more he relaxed, and it looked as though he was actually going to have pleasant dreams for once. The thought made Castiel smile, because Dean deserved a few good hours' sleep if he could get it.

Sleep actually sounded very nice. His body had healed itself of the plagues Pestilence had set upon them, but that had been more taxing for his energy than he'd wanted to let on, and he knew that if he slept his limited grace would replenish itself faster. So he snuggled into the bed, rubbing his face against the pillow until he found a comfortable position, and listened to Dean's quiet, even breathing as he waited for sleep to overtake him.

Nothing disturbed them until morning. Their wake-up was not nearly as pleasant as their sleep. According to Dean, anyways.

Castiel had no qualms about waking up in a queen-size bed curled up in Dean's arms. The pink and glitter was a bit garish, but he was being held by his favorite hunter so he couldn't possibly complain.

Dean didn't see it that way.

* * *

_**Dean**_

Everything was different when he woke up.

The first thing he noticed was the warm presence in bed with him. It took a few moments to remember that he'd gone to bed alone, and then he sat up abruptly to find Cas looking at him in confusion. His rumpled sex-hair bedhead did nothing to assuage Dean's discomfort.

"What the hell is this?" Dean spat, getting hastily out of the bed to glare at it.

"I believe it is a bed, Dean," the former angel murmured around a yawn, stretching. He didn't seem bothered in the least, damn it. Why did he have to be so…so…unfazable? It wasn't freaking fair. Dean would be a stammering, blushing idiot and Cas just took it all in stride without ever batting an eye.

"I _know_ that, Cas," he griped, glaring at the glitter on his clothes. Great—he'd be finding it everywhere for months now. "What I meant is, what the hell is it doing here? How did this—" He flapped a hand at the whole arrangement they had been in when he'd awoken—Cas had been snuggled in his arms, his hair tickling Dean's chin [no, Dean did not blush at the memory—not a bit]— "—happen?"

"I think it is safe to assume that Gabriel is behind this. It is the sort of antic he would pull," Cas said, aiming a soothing smile at Dean that had the hunter's stomach churning with anxiety and—and—

Desire. Yes, damn it, that's what that warm feeling was. Dean looked down, scowling.

"Well tell him to knock it off," Dean mumbled, grabbing a change of clothes and stalking to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind him. He heard a soft sigh on the other side, and felt a tiny twinge of guilt. He didn't mean to be a dick to Cas—Lord knows the last thing Dean wanted to do was hurt the guy—but he couldn't deal with this kind of thing with no warning at 8 a.m., damn it. This…was not okay.

Gabriel would have hell to pay for this, Dean promised himself as he prepared to face the day and all the crap waiting for him outside the safety of these four walls.

* * *

**[A/N: Wow this chapter gave me a lot of issues, and I really don't like the ending or most of the way I did it at all. I just really wanted to update…I haven't had a lot of free time lately—AP Testing, ugh—and whenever I did I just wasn't in the mood to write for this fic because of some personal crap I've been working through that's had me pretty down. I've had a serious lack of inspiration for this middle bit and I just…ugh. Things got kinda sucky and I've been in a funk. But, hey, I'm back with a new chapter!]**

**[I also have a different fic I've posted, feel free to check that out if you wish. It's called **_**Ghost, **_**and that's all I'm gonna say.]**

**[Regarding the rest of this fic, I gotta say that the ending has already written itself out in my end, and some of y'all—probably most actually—are going to **_**hate**_** me for what I'm going to do with this fic. Just…you'll see…yeah. Sorry in advance. Oh and if you're wondering what went on with Sam and Gabe in their motel room, anyone who leaves a review can get a PM of a one-shot that I'm going to write about it—it's quite a bit longer than this chapter because it was easier to write. So there's your incentive for a review, heh. Until next update, guys!]**

—**Makky**


	4. Late Nights

**Chapter 3**

_**Castiel**_

He still didn't understand what the problem was. They had shared a bed before, so why was it a big deal this time? He had actually liked the arrangement-there had been much more room, it was very thoughtful of Gabriel in his opinion. But Dean...he could still recall the shocked look that had filled his emerald eyes when he awoke. He sighed, feeling an unpleasant twist in his stomach as he recalled how Dean had hastened to get out of the bed-away from _him, _he thought with a scowl.

They were in the Impala now. A stoic Dean was driving as Castiel looked out the window-he was _not_ sulking, no matter what Sam said-with a boisterous Gabriel and an oddly bashful Sam in the backseat.

Wait a moment. "Bashful"? Sam Winchester was a lot of things, but bashful is not how the former angel would usually describe him.

Castiel paused his own musings to watch the couple in the back thoughtfully. He noted reflectively that they seemed more...relaxed than usual. Sam had yet to make any scathing comments about the archangel's dependability, at any rate, and it was a noticeable improvement.

Gabriel caught him watching them after a few moments and winked. Castiel arched an eyebrow, which earned him only a grin and a shrug as Gabriel tugged on Sam's hair (he seemed to enjoy doing that, and it always irritated Sam, who slapped his hand away). Sam made a face, his skin seeming a more reddish hue than usual, and Cas frowned for a moment, wondering if he perhaps had contracted a fever. Then he realized that no, it was a blush. Sam was blushing.

Castiel shot his brother an incredulous look, but the archangel only grinned slyly and continued antagonizing Sam. The former seraph shook his head with a resigned sigh, but as he looked away there was an indulgent grin on his face. The grin faded when he looked at Dean.

He hadn't looked at him once since they'd woken up this morning, hadn't _really _looked like he normally would. Castiel was surprised by how profound the sense of loss from this lack of contact was-he felt it like an almost physical sensation, a dull ache in his breastbone that had him frowning and looking out the window, suppressing a weary sigh.

He didn't understand Dean. Well, he'd never understood Dean, that had been obvious from they day they'd met. But now he _really _didn't understand. He'd felt Dean's reactions to being close to him. Dean may have thought he hadn't noticed, but he had. _Boy, had he noticed._ And they had all been pleasant. At least, Castiel thought so. Dean had pulled him close in sleep, had held him in an intimate embrace. But the instant he was conscious, he was pushing Castiel away in every sense of the word. It confused him to no end. He wanted to just ask Dean what the matter was that had him acting so strangely, but he knew Dean loathed discussing feelings and trying to push him would probably only worsen the matter.

Hearing Metallica abruptly blasting from the car's radio startled Castiel and caused him to jerk, making an involuntary noise of alarm. Once he recognized the now-familiar tune, though, he relaxed. Even more so when Dean's low, soothing voice joined in. The former seraph glanced at the hunter and felt a small, sad smile curving his lips at the corners as he watched him, and his heart squeezed in his chest uncomfortably. Just as those familiar green eyes began to flicker towards him, the former angel glanced away before they could make contact, suddenly dreading what he might see there. If the discomfort and unhappiness that had been there this morning were still present, he wasn't sure he could bear it.

He would have to talk to Gabriel when they stopped-this couldn't happen again.

"Where are we headed?" Sam suddenly piped up from the back, having to raise his voice to a half-yell to be heard over Dean and Metallica. Dean turned the radio down as he glanced in the rearview mirror at Gabriel, who just shrugged as he reluctantly removed his hand from Sam's hair. "Why are you looking at me?" the archangel asked.

"You're the one who said you could find Death," Dean replied irritably.

"I said I could _probably _find him, bucko. No guarantees but I'll do my best."

"Whatever," Dean muttered as he rolled his eyes, refocusing on the road. "I'm going to stop at a motel so Sam can find a case for us until you find him."

"Whatever. So...your surprise this morning," Gabriel said in far too nonchalant a tone. Castiel and Dean both stiffened as Sam glanced at them inquiringly, though for far different reasons. "Didn't you like it?"

"About that-" Dean began in a hard tone, glaring once more at the impish archangel in the backseat.

"Don't do it again," Castiel interrupted in a sullen tone, anticipating what Dean was going to say. All eyes in the car turned to him: shocked honey-gold, confused hazel, and wary, tired emerald green. Castiel focused his gaze on his brother's. "It was inappropriate and can't happen again. Do you understand?" he almost growled the words, because they hurt to spoke-it hurt to think that Dean would think of him that way, but he didn't want Dean to be even more uncomfortable around him. Perhaps if he could reassure Dean that he wasn't going to do anything to make him uncomfortable again, things could go back to the way they were.

He didn't want that-didn't want _before. _He wanted more than that. But he would take that over what they had currently. Gladly. At least before they had been friends. Friends was better than this...whatever it was.

Silence filled the Impala for several long moments. Then Gabriel quietly murmured, "Okay, Cas. Whatever you say." But he gave his little brother a look that clearly said, _We're going to talk about this later._

Castiel nodded and turned his attention out the window once more. He didn't say another word for the rest of the drive.

And he never saw the smallest flicker of hurt in the green eyes that studied him only a few moments before returning to the road.

They stopped at a motel about half an hour later. Sam immediately grabbed Dean and hauled him in to get a key-and probably have their own brotherly talk-so Castiel found himself leaning against the hood of the Impala with Gabriel.

"What was that about, baby bro?" he asked gently. "This morning was meant to help you move things along with Dean. I anticipated this from him, but I thought you, at least, would appreciate-"

"It doesn't matter, Gabriel," Castiel interrupted, his arms crossing over his chest as though to shield himself. "Dean didn't like it, and it has strained things between us, so don't do it again."

Gabriel pursed his lips until Castiel narrowed his eyes, then heaved a put-upon sigh before reluctantly acquiescing. "Fine. Whatever you say, bro."

Castiel nodded, satisfied, as Sam and Dean emerged from the check-in office. The former angel, immediately distracted by the elder hunter's disgruntled appearance, never noticed the crossed fingers that Gabriel was hiding behind his back, or the speculative look exchanged between him and Sam.

Castiel volunteered to take the room with Gabriel tonight, so Dean gave him a key and they went their separate ways.

It was a long night all around.

* * *

_**Dean**_

He couldn't sleep. He was happy to blame it on Sam's snoring in the next bed over-seriously, it sounded like a broken chainsaw or maybe a bear-but he knew that wasn't the issue.

He couldn't stop _thinking. _Thinking about last night, and that morning. And those stupid big blue eyes looking sleepily up into his...like a tired puppy or something equally unfair in its cuteness.

Dean snorted softly to himself and rolled over for the thousandth time that night, glaring at the wall and punching his pillow. He was tired. He needed his four hours or he would screw up on whatever they did next, and he knew that.

So why couldn't he just _sleep _already.

_Because you always have trouble sleeping when you're keeping a secret,_ his traitorous mind whispered to it.

_Shut up,_ he growled to himself and then cursed. Talking to himself again. Freaking awesome. _I swear to God, if that freaking angel in his stupid trench coat makes me lose my damn mind once and for all-_

What? What would he do? He knew he'd never hurt Castiel, not on purpose anyways, any more than he would Sam. Castiel was family. He'd rebelled against Heaven, everything he'd ever known, for them.

_No. For Dean. That's what he'd said. That he did it all for Dean._

The thought, barely remembered but refusing to be ignored, had Dean shifting uncomfortably. He suppressed a sigh by shoving his face into his pillow, not wanting to wake Sam, who would no doubt initiate a chick-flicky conversation about _feelings _or something similarly nauseating.

In the quiet dark, though, Dean felt safe to reflect, if only to himself, on what was going on in his head.

Dean Winchester is a very emotional man. He may not always _express _those emotions very well, of course, but they're always there. He feels love and hate and sorrow and guilt and joy to a degree of fierceness that's startling in its intensity, even to him. He thinks with his heart, even if he'll avoid discussing it like Sam avoids talking about Ruby. Taboo subjects-they stay away from them by mutual consent. It may not be better for their health, but it was easier. So that was how they handled things.

Right now, Dean knew he had some pretty strong feelings brewing, all centered around a nerdy, big-blue-eyed, messy-hair angel that had somehow become his best friend. It hadn't started that way, sure. Dean still clearly recalled the early days, which consisted mostly of grudging respect and hidden fear and resentment towards the being that had saved him from Hell, and quiet contemplation and curiosity-and sometimes irritation-from Castiel regarding him. It had been a strain, but Castiel had come through.

Dean never really thought about why Cas did what he did. He always assumed Cas had his own reasons and didn't bother prying. He felt bad about how Cas had been locked away in angel-jail or whatever because of him, and that Cas was no longer at full strength because of the rebellion that Dean had pushed him into.

He saw the sadness in Cas' eyes as he watched Gabriel's antics and the jealousy that Gabriel had all his Grace and Cas...didn't. And he felt guilty because Dean knew that any unhappiness Cas was feeling was all his fault.

He didn't want Cas to be unhappy. He didn't know what he wanted, exactly, but he was certain that he _didn't _want that. Whenever he managed to coax a smile or even a laugh out of the Falling Angel, Dean felt like he'd won some sort of personal victory. Seeing Cas happy, sappy and cheesy as it sounds, made him happy. He felt a strong affection for Cas, similar to what he felt for Sam, only more. Less...platonic.

_Wait. Less platonic?_

_Dean, you freaking idiot._

And just like that, the answer was painfully obvious. Dean knew what he felt, and what he wanted from Castiel. But...Castiel was an Angel of the Lord. Falling, maybe, but still. Dean didn't know what that meant in terms of...feelings, and he sure as hell wasn't going to ask.

Dean sighed and closed his eyes, clenching his fist around the knife under his pillow. The hilt felt familiar and soothing in his hand, and it helped Dean relax a little. Too much to think about. Maybe it would seem more manageable in the morning.

* * *

**[A/N: So...hi, everyone...I'm not dead! Yay!]**

**[I am so, so, so, SO sorry about the lateness and sort of suckiness of this chapter. I've been on what my therapist calls a 'nadir', which means low point, and have had major writer's block. It's been kind of pathetic, really. But I'm back! Yay, right? And with a brand new laptop, too! Whoopee!]**

**[So...yeah...this chapter...I don't like it but I needed to update. I'll try to make the next one better. Unfortunately there's angst and feels and possibly tears on the way. I have a feeling I might get a lot of unhappiness with the approaching ending...sorry about that...but anyways please let me know what you thought! Reviewers get Castiel cuddles.]**

**-Makky**


	5. Interference

**Chapter 4**

_**Gabriel**_

Gabriel loved Castiel, he did. And he could see that he was hurting over the situation with the stupid older hunter, even if he wouldn't admit it. Dean was a stubborn ass, but he loved Castiel, and Castiel had it _bad_ for Dean. So Gabriel was going to give him another chance. But the archangel swore to his Father, if he was still being a bone-headed jerk after this then Gabriel was going to smite his sorry ass and knock some sense into him. He had it coming.

He got Sam in on it this time, because Sam knew his brother better and knew which buttons it was safe to push for this situation. It was risky all around, and it still might not work. But between Sam's knowledge of his brother and Gabriel's experience as a Trickster, he was confident it was the best plan they could come up with.

Seeing the mischievous gleam in Sam's eyes as they schemed together, Gabriel had no doubts he'd scored the better Winchester out of this deal. He still couldn't believe that it was real, despite the casual yet discreet hand-holding and the kisses Sam would drop on top of his head as he passed by (the kid was a real sap) whenever they were alone, or when Dean wouldn't notice.

Gabriel withdrew from his daydreaming and told himself to focus. The plan was going into action soon. Even now he could hear Sam's exasperated voice, followed by Dean's gruffly irritated responses, just on the other side of the motel room door. The archangel glanced at his younger brother, who was leaning next to him, braced against the Impala, staring forlornly into the distance.

Yes, okay, he _had _promised Cas that he would stay out of it. But damn it, they needed his help. And he'd had his fingers crossed anyways, so it didn't count. Besides, Castiel should be thanking him for going to so much effort to help him out. He'd given literally everything for Dean, he deserved more than the way Dean treated him.

The hunters finally emerged, and Sam exchanged a meaningful glance with him before directing a bitchface at his brother over his shoulder and joining Gabriel in leaning against the hood of the Impala, the back of his hand brushing surreptitiously against Gabriel's. Stifling a grin at the contact, Gabriel chirped a perky "Morning, Dean-o!" which only earned him a weary glare.

The green eyes only held his for a few seconds before flickering over to Cas, who was still ignoring them all in favor of watching a jogger across the street, seeming fascinated with ignoring them. Dean's brow wrinkled and there was something in his eyes...

_Oh, Father, _Gabriel thought to himself, rolling his eyes. _He knows, the idiot, and he's holding himself back. Self-sacrificing dolt. These two I swear..._He glanced at Sam again and saw his exasperation mirrored in Sam's expression. They exchanged a curt nod, instantly on the same page-time to put the plan into action.

* * *

**"Sam and Gabriel's Epic Plot to Hook Their Brothers Up", Phase One: ****Brotherly Interference**

_**Dean**_

Dean slammed the door of the Impala shut, scowling as the other three doors opened and closed. He just couldn't catch a break lately, it seemed. Between Gabriel's meddling yesterday, and Sam's insisting they talk about freaking _feelings _the instant he woke up, Dean was in a thoroughly pissed-off mood.

Dean had tried to brush Sam off with his usual brusque "No chick-flick moments", and usually Sam would've let it slide. But for some reason he was insistent this morning, and would not let it go. Dean wasn't sure why, but Sam would _not _quit bugging him until he had admitted that, yes, damnit, he cared about Castiel a hell of a lot more than he should. After that he had shoved past his irritatingly smug brother to get out to the Impala, ready to escape this discussion and leave it behind.

His sour mood was not at all improved by Gabriel sitting in the passenger seat, rather than Castiel like he'd been expecting. Glancing in the backseat as he started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot, Dean felt mildly irritated to see the blue-eyed ex-angel seated by his brother, their heads bent close together, speaking in low voices. Dean's eyes narrowed, wondering what the hell they were talking about now.

"So, Dean," Gabriel said casually, interrupting his thoughts. Dean snapped a glance at the midget archangel, glaring.

"What do you want, short-stack?" he almost growled, sick to death of everyone trying to make him _talk. _Why couldn't they just leave him _alone?_

"Just to talk about my brother," the archangel informed him, smirking in a way that made Dean want to punch him. Repeatedly. Instead he focused on the road, clenching his hands on the steering wheel before relaxing his grip and rubbing it apologetically with one hand. _Sorry, baby, you didn't do anything to me,_ he thought. The car was the only one that hadn't done anything to unsettle him of late.

"Sam already beat you to it," he muttered.

"I just want to make sure he was _thorough. _You see, Dean, Sam is nice. Really nice. Never met any human with such a big heart and it's kind of amazing after all the shit he's been through." There was something soft in Gabriel's voice as he spoke of the younger Winchester, something that had Dean eyeing him in suspicion when he could afford to take his eyes from the road. Noticing his glances, Gabriel's face hardened as he continued, "I, however, am not so nice. And if you keep hurting my brother, I'm going to make you suffer."

Dean almost choked on his words as anger filled his chest, glancing in the mirror again to make sure the former-angel in question wasn't listening. Reassured by the sight of Castiel staring out the window, obviously tuned out, Dean glared at the archangel beside him and hissed, "I would never...as if I...I wouldn't hurt Cas!" _I care about him too much,_ the words were unspoken but implied by his tone, and they hung in the air thick with tension between hunter and archangel.

Gabriel snorted. "Then what are you doing with your head so far up your ass, nimrod?"

Dean only blinked at him in confusion and irritation, causing the archangel to groan. "If you weren't driving I would hit you right now. Seriously, I have no clue why Castiel likes you so much. You're so dense." He shook his head in amazement. Dean rolled his eyes.

"No one asked you to hang around," Dean grumbled, though he couldn't find it in him to be truly mad after remembering that it was only because of Gabriel that he'd gotten Cas back from angel prison in the first place. He owed him, damn it.

"Please. You mutton-heads would be lost without my help. Besides, I'm growing fond of your brother. But that's not the point of our discussion."

"Then what is?"

"Quit hurting my brother by pretending you care less than you do, or I will smite your ass," Gabriel said pointedly. Praying the heat creeping up his face wasn't as obvious as it felt, Dean only glared and, when nothing more was said, reached out to turn on the radio.

He stole one more glance in the rearview mirror. Sam met his gaze and sent a bitchface at him, the _What are you doing, you moron? _one. Dean barely resisted the urge to flip him off. He flicked a glance at Cas and, as though sensing his gaze, the fallen angel moved his eyes so he could meet Dean's for the first time that morning.

Dean's breath caught at the sadness in them, feeling his brow furrowing. He wanted to ask what was wrong, and perhaps Cas sensed that because he gave Dean a small, reassuring smile that didn't reach those big sad eyes. It made something in Dean's chest tighten and had him frowning in concern. Cas only shook his head and gazed out the window once more.

Dean redirected his focus back to the road once he realized he'd been staring at the angel for a reckless amount of time, glad that this stretch of highway was fairly empty.

Not another word was spoken the rest of the drive, although there were plenty of looks exchanged.

* * *

_**Sam**_

Talking to Cas was...heart-breaking, Sam decided, was the best adjective.

They spoke in low voices as they sat in the backseat, neither wanting Dean to overhear and gripe at them. Castiel poured his heart out to Sam, expressing his concerns about Dean's behavior and his fear that Dean was uncomfortable around him because of what Gabriel had done-Sam flicked a glance at his boyfriend at that, frowning, but knew he had only been trying to help in his own way, so he let it go for now-and that Dean would no longer want him around after that.

Hearing the former angel say that he would gladly settle for things being the way they were, despite wanting _more,_ had Sam patting his shoulder consolingly while internally cursing his brother for being so thick.

"Cas, Dean does care about you. He does," Sam insisted at Castiel's humorless laugh, "but he has...issues."

The familiar tilting of his head almost had Sam smiling as Cas inquired, "Issues?"

"Issues. Self-esteem wise and emotionally."

"I...don't understand," Castiel murmured, brow furrowing. He flicked a confused glance at Dean, something soft and hurting in his big blue eyes. Sam sent his own glare at his idiot of a brother, smirking as he realized that Gabriel was talking. Just as they'd planned.

"Has Dean ever talked to you about Hell?" Sam asked hesitantly, refocusing on the former angel, who shook his head. Sam sighed and continued, "He had a bad time down there, Cas. I mean, no duh, it was _Hell_. He did a lot of things he regrets...he thinks he turned into some kind of monster, that something's wrong with him-"

"He thought he didn't deserve to be saved," Castiel said softly, confusion in his eyes. "When I went to pull him out, he fought me. Thought he deserved to be left there, in the darkness, being tortured." Castiel shivered and looked mournfully once more at the man driving the car.

Sam swallowed, but wasn't really surprised by the news. It sounded so very ... _Dean. _"Yeah. Well...he still thinks that sometimes, I think." Blue eyes snapped to his, and something like rage flickered in them.

"He's wrong," the angel almost snarled, and Sam nodded his agreement.

"I know, Cas, I know," he reassured gently. The ex-angel crossed his arms with a huff and gestured for Sam to continue explaining. "Dean also has...other issues. The lives we lead, they're not conductive to relationships unless your partner comes hunting with you, and Dean would never allow that if he could help it-he hates putting people in danger, especially people he cares about. And he's lost a lot of people. Just about everyone Dean's ever cared about has been taken from him or has left. So he has some trust issues when it comes to feelings."

Sorrow filled Cas' eyes now, empathy for Dean's suffering, Sam assumed. "So... you're saying he's guarded and reluctant to admit that he cares about me because he's afraid that I will leave, or be taken away?" he summarized.

"Exactly." Sam nodded, pleased that Castiel seemed to be getting it. "But he'll come around eventually, Cas. He's stubborn, but...well, Gabriel and I are working on it."

"Gabriel promised he wouldn't-" Cas began, seeming indignant that his brother had lied to him, but Sam cut him off.

"He's just trying to help, Cas. We both are. Trust me, Dean's not going to get over this unless we push him, so that's what we're gonna do."

Castiel winced apprehensively. "Sam, that might not be the best idea...Gabriel's 'help'-" He actually used air quotes with his fingers, and Sam barely managed to smother his laughter-"-seems to only bother Dean and drive us farther apart."

"Relax, Cas, that's why I'm helping. I'll keep Gabriel from going too far, just make sure he pushes Dean just far enough. We'll get through to him, I promise. We have a plan."

Cas sighed and looked away, out the window. "Very well. I will trust you. And, Sam? Thank you."

"No problem, Cas. You've done a lot for us-you deserve happiness, and God knows Dean does too. I figure your guys' best chance is finding it with each other." He squeezed Cas' shoulder reassuringly, smiling even though Cas couldn't see it, since he was still staring out the window.

"I hope you're right," Castiel murmured lowly, and Sam barely caught it. He's pretty sure he wasn't meant to.

* * *

_**Dean**_

They pulled into Douglas, Illinois that afternoon per Sam's instructions. There had been some murders in the area lately that looked like it could be vampires. Dean for one could not be more thrilled. He desperately needed to gank some evil son of a bitch or he was going to start throwing punches.

As he parked outside the police station, Sam abruptly suggested that they split up, offering to go with Gabriel and try to track down the nest while Dean interviewed the cops and families of the vic's to gather what information they could.

Dean wanted to groan about being stuck with Castiel-yes, okay, he would grudgingly admit that he loved the guy, but he was clueless when it came to interrogations and hopelessly awkward in social situations in general-but one look into those weary, wounded blue eyes and any protest died on his tongue.

"Yeah, sure," he mumbled instead. And tried not to notice the way Cas' eyes lit up at his response, like he'd just received the best present in the history of forever. Catching Gabriel's knowing smirk out of the corner of his eye, Dean subtly flipped him off. The archangel only rolled his eyes.

"Don't mess this up, Dean-o," he said cheerily. "Come on, Sam-a-lam, let's go hunt down some nasties. We'll see you when we see you." With a snap of his fingers, they were gone, and Dean found himself alone with Castiel.

"Well...shall we go in?" the ex-angel asked, shuffling awkwardly. Dean nodded, reaching over to dig into his glove compartment for the fake ID and badge he and Sam had made for Cas a while back.

"Remember," he said as he handed it over, "your name is Alan Rigby, and you're my partner with the FBI. And, Cas? Please let me do most of the talking."

Cas gave a small, rueful smile and nodded, getting out of the car and heading for the police station. Dean hurried after him, eager to be settling into the familiar routine of their old lives.

And if Dean's heart skipped a little when Cas held the door open for him with a smile, nobody else needed to know.

Taking a deep breath, Dean gave a forced smile back and sauntered inside.

_Keep it together, Winchester,_ he told himself. _Keep it together._

* * *

**[A/N: Look, another chapter within a week! It's a miracle, praise Gabriel!]**

**[I feel better about this chapter than the last couple. And I know I've gotten off-plot and have been focusing mostly on the ships, but I promise more plot is coming in the next few chapters.]**

**[Fair warning-hectic week coming up. I'm going to see _Jurassic World_, the Missionaries are coming over (ugh) for a lesson, I'm going to go visit my grandpa and the bio's for a few days, and who knows what else might pop up. So if I don't update this week that's why.]**

**[That's all! Drop a review to let me know what you think of the Sabriel scheming and such! Reviewers are safe from Gabriel's pranks but if you read without reviewing, you'll wake up tomorrow to find your hair dyed neon pink and all your clothes will have shrunken to the size of a leprechaun's. So make sure you review for your own safety, folks!]**

**-Makky**


	6. Time Loop

**Chapter 5**

_**Sam**_

Gabriel had tracked down the nest no problem with his archangelic abilities. One scan with his Grace, and it took less than fifteen minutes with their combined efforts to wipe out the handful of vampires. Now they were back at their motel room, plotting the next move for their Grand Scheme.

Okay, so he knew this was kind of a dick move on their parts. When Gabriel had initially suggested it, Sam had turned it down vehemently, recalling his own experiences with a wince. But after a lot of arguing, and a promise that he wouldn't let them _actually _get hurt, Gabriel had convinced a reluctant Sam that it was necessary if they wanted their "Epic Plot" to pay off.

And yes, Sam was tired of seeing Dean and Cas dance around each other, especially when it made poor Cas so miserable and Dean so grumpy.

And so, with great reluctance, Sam helped Gabriel put the next phase into action.

**"Sam and Gabriel's Epic Plot to Hook Their Brothers Up", Phase Two: Time Loop**

* * *

_**Dean**_

After a long day of interviewing the families of the vic's, and after taking a look at their bodies in the morgue, Dean was ready to go meet up with Sam and Gabriel and see if their search had gone any better. Glancing at the fallen angel by his side as they sat car in the Impala on the way to the motel, Dean felt a concerned frown tugging his lips down.

There was something in Cas' eyes that bothered Dean. Something...not quite broken, but breaking. The former-angel was hurting, and Dean knew it was his fault. But he didn't know what to _do _about it, damn it. Things had been weird between them for a while now. Their 'profound bond' or whatever was all messed up, and Dean didn't know how to make it better.

But he wanted to. He wanted to fix it, to get his best friend back, because this distance between them left him aching and unsatisfied with their relationship.

So, now all he really needed to know was: what did he have to do to mend their bond and make everything better?

He had no freaking clue. But he'd figure it out. For Cas, he would.

His musings were interrupted by his cell phone ringing. Digging it out of his pocket, Dean tossed it to Cas.

"Answer that, would ya?"

Cas flipped the phone open and pressed it to his ear, waiting for the person on the other end to speak with a stoicism that had Dean chuckling and shaking his head-_typical Cas,_ he thought fondly.

"Hello, Sam," he finally murmured. "No, he's fine-driving. ...not very fruitful. And your search?...I see. Well, that is good, I suppose...yes, of course I will tell him...I'm sure we can grab some food on the way back...yes. We will see you soon." He hung up and handed the phone back to Dean, explaining when he saw the hunter's arched eyebrows, "Sam and Gabriel found the nest and wiped out the vampires. They have requested that we search the house in case of stragglers and then retrieve sustenance and meet them at the motel."

Dean frowned. "Damn, I was looking forward to ganking some sons of bitches," he murmured. Then added hastily at Cas' glower, "I know I know, better this way, less people hurt, yada yada. I just miss hunting my way-Gabriel always gets there first and takes all the fun out of it nowadays." He sighed. "I'm itching to do my own thing again, man. Family business, ya know?"

"You are restless," Cas reflected.

"That's as decent a summary as any, I guess," Dean acknowledged with a shrug. "Anyways. Did Sammy say where the nest was?"

"Just outside the town limits, in a large but seemingly abandoned house."

"Alright, let's go," Dean said, turning baby around and stepping on the gas pedal hard. Cas winced and balled his hands into fists in his lap, and Dean hid his grin. "Relax, angel, you're safe with me," he said without thinking, reaching over to ruffle Cas' hair. The ex-angel glowered and swatted his hand away, but something in his eyes softened at the casual contact. Dean noticed and felt something warm surge in him, and he thought that maybe he was on the right track to fixing things with Cas.

He couldn't stop grinning the rest of the drive.

* * *

The nest, of course, had been thoroughly cleaned out. Not a trace of vampires to be found other than a congealed pool of blood Dean managed to step in. Dean carefully removed the shoe and threw it in the trunk of the Impala, not wanting to damage the interior. Cas was watching him with those big blue eyes the whole time, and it had Dean's skin prickling in a familiar way.

When their eyes met over the top of the car before climbing in, something sparked in Dean-attraction, for sure, but something else too. Dean allowed himself to just stare at Cas as long as he damn well pleased, and in those eyes he saw the pain from before, but also confusion and maybe just a bit of hope.

Something inside him reached for Cas. The emptiness he'd been morbidly aware of since their encounter with Famine, aching to be filled, seemed sure that Cas was the solution. And as that something reached for Cas, Dean saw the ex-angel inhale quickly, his eyes widening just a fraction, and something warm brushed against Dean that felt familiar in a vague sort of way, like a dream forgotten upon waking, leaving him shivering.

Dean swallowed and barely got out a hoarse "Cas..." before the angel was walking around the car, and before he could process what was happening there were pale, nimble fingers sliding up his arms, pulling him close as chapped lips brushed against his, and his eyes were full of deep endless blue before they slid closed, his arms coming up to return the embrace and Cas' hand slid over the scar on Dean's upper arm, causing him to groan and _oh God, Cas-Castiel was kissing Dean._

_Sweet holy mother of fuck, was it good._

He was awkward, to say the least. But Dean didn't care because the warm, thin body that had been slowly gaining muscle over the last month felt so good and so right and _Cas was kissing him. _Dean gasped raggedly, tangling his fingers in messy, surprisingly soft hair, chuckling quietly when the former angel's lips tried to chase his for another kiss.

Pressing his forehead to the ex-angel's, Dean contented himself with just holding the angel. He opened his eyes almost lazily to find those sapphire irises already seeking his gaze, filled with happiness and love and such sweetness that it made Dean's heart swell and stutter.

"Dean..." He murmured, voice a murmur, almost like a prayer.

"Cas," the hunter replied, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Castiel-my best friend and my guardian angel," he murmured, before leaning down to reclaim Cas' lips with his own.

He closed his eyes and as chapped lips brushed against his own, Dean heard music.

No, not in the metaphorical "I'm so in love, the hills are alive, everything is sunshine and rainbows and happiness" bullshit sense, you romantic dolts.

Literally, he heard music.

_"You're the best friend/That I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine..."_

The world faded and for a moment, nothing was real. Dean closed his eyes because he couldn't see anything, couldn't feel Cas anymore and he ached with the loss of contact, and he was disoriented because he didn't know where he was or what was happening. Then everything came into sharp focus, the music fading in his ears as Dean opened his eyes and blinked; he then almost swerved off the road in his shock as he discovered that he was back in town, cruising in the Impala with Cas by his side, and the former angel was on the phone.

_What the hell?_

"...Yes, of course I will tell him...I'm sure we can grab some food on the way back...yes. We will see you soon." He hung up and handed the phone back to Dean. At a confused glance from the hunter, former angel explained, "Sam and Gabriel found the nest and wiped out the vampires. They have requested that we search the house in case of stragglers and then retrieve sustenance and meet them at the hotel."

Dean's confusion increased tenfold. One minute he was outside the empty nest, kissing Castiel, and then they went back in time half an hour and it's like none of that happened. And the worst part was, the pain-the sadness that had been gone after they had kissed-was once more in Cas' eyes, making Dean swallow and frown.

"Um...right," he muttered, glancing away as his hands tightened on the wheel apprehensively. "So...uh, to the nest, I guess?"

"That would appear to be the best course of action," the ex-angel murmured, and when Dean glanced at him he was staring out the window like he always seemed to do these days. Frowning, Dean stepped on the gas, wondering what the hell was happening.

Unfortunately for Dean, that was only the beginning.

* * *

**_Gabriel_**

"How long do you think it'll take him to catch on?" the archangel asked, idly tracing out Enochian symbols on Sam's bare chest. The hunter was lightly dozing after some rampant sex, but he stirred a bit at Gabriel's question, propping up on his elbows with a thoughtful expression.

"I dunno. I mean, it is Dean we're talking about. Could be right away or it could take a hundred Wednesdays, or anywhere in between." He shrugged.

"I hope he catches on sooner than you did. But given how long it took the smarter Winchester to figure out what I was doing, I doubt he will."

Flushing slightly at the subtle praise, Sam rolled his eyes. "So remind me again how it works?"

"Simple, Samsquatch. Every time Dean pulls his head out of his ass and kisses his angel, the day resets to your phone conversation with Cas. And it has to be Dean who initiates it, not Cas." Gabriel grinned. "I feel kinda bad for Cassie, though-all those kisses and he won't remember a single one. Still, I'm sure that the result will more than make up for the loss." He smirked and Sam rolled his eyes.

"I still don't fully support this," Sam murmured, laying back against the pillows again with a languid stretch that had Gabriel's honey eyes raking over his body hungrily. Sam shivered and felt warmth pool in him, bursting into full-blown arousal when Gabe rolled on top of him to straddle his hips, lightly teasing his hands down Sam's chest. Sam shivered in response, closing his eyes.

"Sam, trust me, time loops are effective," the archangel murmured, leaning down so that his lips brushed the hunter's collarbone as he spoke. He chuckled as Sam groaned lightly, responding with a gentle nip that had the hunter's breath hitching in his throat.

"Maybe," Sam said in a husky voice that had the archangel hungrily tracing kisses down his chest. "But...um...trouble focusing...they can also be disorienting. I mean..." Sam groaned as Gabe's lips brushed along his hips, effectively severing his train of thought and leaving him achingly hard. His fingers dug into the sheets of the luxurious bed Gabriel had snapped up for them as he looked down, heated hazel eyes meeting hungry honey-gold.

Noticing Sam's predicament, Gabriel grinned wolfishly from the general vicinity of Sam's hips. "Let me take care of that for you, babe," he almost purred.

Sam was utterly gone the moment archangel lips met his skin. He didn't worry about a thing for the rest of the night-he trusted Gabriel to take care of things.

* * *

_**Dean**_

_"You're __the best friend/That I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine..."_

"Yes, of course I will tell him...I'm sure we can grab some food on the way back...yes. We will see you soon." He hung up and handed the phone back to Dean. "Sam and Gabriel found the nest and wiped out the vampires. They have requested that we search the house in case of stragglers and then retrieve sustenance and meet them at the hotel."

The second Wednesday, Dean had made it to the diner and was getting food with Cas when he realized that he hated seeing him so sad, and realizing that he could do something about it, had just planted one on him right there, not caring that everyone was staring, not caring that Cas was a sloppy kisser, not caring about anything but making that ache in Cas go away...

_"You're __the best friend/That I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine..."_

Then they were back in the Impala.

* * *

The fourth Wednesday found them at a park because Cas had decided that Sam and Gabriel needed some "quality alone time", which Dean roughly translated as them having wild noisy sex and so it was best to steer clear. So he had a picnic with Cas in the park and it was as cheesy and romantic as expected. And when the sun went down, Dean had lain on the grass and told Cas to join him, so the former angel had lain with Dean and they stared at the stars. After a while Dean slung an arm around Cas' shoulders, and after a small noise of pleasant surprise Cas was shuffling closer to snuggle against his side. Dean had fondly chuckled and pressed a gentle kiss to Cas' forehead.

_"You're __the best friend/That I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine..."_

Reset again. For a freaking forehead kiss?! Come on, that was barely anything. Dean was pretty pissed about that one.

* * *

The seventh Wednesday, they ran into a rogue vampire that Sam and Gabriel must have missed somehow. They managed to take it out with little fuss, but Dean was going to have to trash this shirt because it was now covered in vampire blood. As they were burning the body, Cas had come to stand by Dean and had gently, shyly, taken his hand. Dean had turned to the former angel, and in his eyes there was sadness and fear and _longing._ Cas had smiled sadly and began to loosen his grip. Dean had shaken his head and, with a sound almost like a growl, grabbed him by the lapels of his trench coat and yanked him close, kissing him heatedly. That was a rougher kiss, all hunger and tongues and teeth, and god had it been hot.

_"You're __the best friend/That I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine..."_

Dean wanted to scream. How long would this go on?

* * *

The eleventh Wednesday was both the best and the worst. Dean had decided he'd had enough, and so instead of driving to the nest, he'd driven out of town, thinking that maybe if he left this would stop. He ignored Cas' questions, didn't listen to his protests or his pleadings, just kept driving until the sun was low in the sky and they were on a lonely stretch of highway. Then, without warning, Dean had pulled over and braked, getting out and walking away, muttering obscenities under his breath.

"Dean! Dean, come back."

He could hear Castiel scrambling after him, calling for him, but Dean didn't pause. Not until a familiar hand caught him by the shoulder, yanking him around. He was faced with blue eyes filled with anger and confusion and so much sadness that Dean was amazed he didn't drown in it. The hunter scowled and yanked away from the touch.

"Dean, what's wrong?" Cas had demanded, pleaded, a hand reaching out towards him, only to drop uselessly to his side when Dean shrank away.

"Nothing." Dean ran a hand over his face, through his hair. "Everything. God, Cas, I just want it to stop," he said raggedly, the words ripped from him unexpectedly.

More confusion. "What?"

"This...whatever is happening! I want it to stop, because I can't take it!" And he was yelling now, which wasn't fair because it wasn't Cas' fault. Dean didn't know what was happening but he knew that much.

"Dean..." And he knew that tone. The "I'm here for you" tone, the one that usually led to heartfelt mushy moments that Dean was _so _not in the mood for. So he lashed out instead, before Cas could say another word.

"No! Enough, Cas. I can't do this," he almost snarled.

"Do what?"

"This...whatever this is!" Dean snapped, waving a hand between them vaguely. Hurt filled Cas' eyes now and Dean felt like he'd just kicked a puppy. He looked away. "I just...I can't, Cas." And instead of sounding defeated or resigned as Dean expected, instead of the more typical "Very well", Cas' tone filled with anger. He sounded so pissed that he probably would've smited Dean if he'd still had the mojo.

"Why? What exactly is so wrong with the idea of being with me, Dean?" he demanded. His hand grabbed Dean's chin and forced him to look up into those dazzling, fiery blue depths. He couldn't look away and he found he couldn't speak around the lump in his throat. And despite the anger, there were tears building in those blue eyes now, to Dean's horror. _Cas was crying because of him. _"Answer me, Dean. I have a right to know," he demanded, begged. Dean closed his eyes, exhaling raggedly.

"You deserve better, Cas," he muttered. And there it was. Dean was this broken, stained, burned-out husk. He was as bad as any demon he killed and Cas knew all his faults. And Cas...Cas was this powerful, amazing being. He was a freaking _angel, _for god's sake! A fallen one, but still-he was purer than anything Dean had ever encountered. He didn't deserve to be tainted by the toxin that was Dean Winchester. "I'll only drag you down with me."

"Bullshit." Dean's eyes snapped open at the profanity falling from Cas' lips, incredulous. "I know your soul, Dean Winchester, and it is the brightest I have ever encountered. You are the Righteous Man, and you are...you're amazing. When I raised you from Perdition, your soul shone like a beacon and it was beautiful. Nothing could ever be better than you, Dean. And...I don't want anyone else," he finished with a softer tone, and now his eyes were just begging Dean.

He was not crying, damn it. His eyes were just blurry because he was tired.

"Cas..." He'd barely been able to whisper it, and then he was in the ex-angel's embrace, thin fingers stroking his hair. His face was pressed against Cas' shoulder and he turned so his nose brushed against the curve of his neck, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of petrichor and ozone and _Cas. _Another ragged exhale as his arms encircled Cas to pull him closer, and then their foreheads were pressed together and they matched each other-pain for pain, sadness for sadness, love for love, they met and mixed and healed each other as their lips sought each other, brushing together in the tenderest of gestures and Dean's heart broke, a hairline fracture that left it ragged and bleeding, hemorrhaging all the shame and guilt and self-loathing that he usually repressed to rip through him in a tempestuous tumult that left him reeling and vulnerable. The wound had a sort of freshness to it, though, like something left to fester being purified. He had a feeling that it would heal better than it had before.

_"You're __the best friend/That I ever had/I've been with you such a long time/You're my sunshine..."_

_God fucking damn it,_ Dean thought as he listened to Cas talking to Sam once more. An aching in his chest had him glaring out the window, not listening to a word, too lost in reminiscing about what was, what might have been, and what still could be. If only he could put an end to this.

* * *

It was on the seventeenth Wednesday that Dean decided to finally speak up about his predicament. The instant Cas hung up his phone, Dean jumped in.

"Yeah yeah, nest taken care of, check it out, get food, I know," he said, waving a hand dismissively. Cas arched an eyebrow at him and opened his mouth but Dean kept going. "I have a problem, Cas."

"...what is the matter, Dean?"

"I think I'm stuck in a time loop."

"A what now?" Dean glanced over into confused blue eyes that had a knot twisting in his chest. Grimacing, Dean focused on the road. _Focus. Don't do anything that will make this reset again._

"Time loop. This day keeps happening, over and over again, and I'm the only one who seems to be aware of it," he explained.

"Ah. I see. I suggest you talk to Gabriel-it is probably something he designed to mess with you in some way," Cas murmured, looking out the window with his hands folded neatly in his lap.

Dean blinked, and then was overcome by the overwhelming desire to sink his fist into Gabriel's face. Which would hurt like hell, but still be immensely satisfying. Dean scowled, a blush creeping up his neck as he realized their brothers were fucking meddling.

"He is so dead," Dean growled. "We're going to go find our brothers, and then Gabriel is going to end this or I will deep fry his wings with holy oil, extra crispy."

As they sped towards the motel at speeds that had Cas cringing and closing his eyes apprehensively, Dean couldn't help but reflect that-after this was over-he would kind of miss kissing Cas.

* * *

**[A/N: GUYS OH MY GOD MISHA EMAILED ME NO JOKE FJSKFJSLDFJSALK THERE'S THIS WEBSITE THAT TRACKS IF HE'S IN AMERICA AND YOU CAN SIGN UP TO GET EMAILS FROM HIM AND I DID AND HE ACTUALLY DID IT HE EMAILED ME OH MY GOD I FEEL SO ACKNOWLEDGED AND IMPORTANT AFJSKDFLJSDLF.]**

**[Okay, so now that my fangirl freak-out is over! Special shout-out to users Laura Messer for her review of the last chapter, and to JustAnother-C-Reaper and miXiZ for their reviews on my other story, _Ghost._ That story is finished, if you feel like checking it out. It's shorter than this one and I would appreciate more feedback on it. And on this one too, hint hint. I know more people follow this than are reviewing and I would love to get some feedback in the form of reviews, guys.]**

**[ALSO I SAW JURASSIC WORLD AND IT WAS AMAZING, GUYS. Anyways, that's all. As incentive for more reviews, the first two people to do so will get to decide what I write next-they can give me any SPN prompt and I'll write a story based on it. First two people who review will get a PM from me and can send me their prompt that way, and I will do my best to get that story up promptly. So...REVIEW PLEASE.]**

**-Makky**


	7. A Mistake

**Chapter 6**

**_Gabriel_**

Despite what he'd told Sam, creating the time loop he had Dean in was not easy. It took a significant amount of his Grace, the same Grace that was shielding them from the nuclear strike that was Michael's Grace. It was a risk, and Gabriel knew it. He probably should have said something, but then Sam would never have let him go through with it and their Epic Plot wouldn't have paid off. Gabriel had been pulling tricks and running from Heaven and the Host for a long time, so he knew the risk was worth the pay-off. He knew what he was doing. He was confident that his Grace could both shield them from Michael and push Cas and Dean together as they so clearly needed.

And Gabriel was right. His Grace kept them shielded from Michael just fine.

Unfortunately, the arrogant archangel forgot about his fallen brother, Lucifer.

Later, Sam would be the one paying for that mistake.

Right now, though, archangel and young hunter were unaware of the danger headed their way. Gabriel was waking Sam with a shower of kisses down along his jaw and throat, lips brushing over the hickeys he'd left with a satisfied smirk as Sam made a delicious groaning sound and stretched, yawning as his sleepy hazel eyes looked up into the archangel's.

"Rise and shine, gorgeous," Gabriel sang. "Dean's figured out the catch and is on his way to beat the shit out of me," he informed Sam cheerily, causing the hunter to sit up, suddenly much more alert, his eyes sparking with delighted mischief. Gabriel decided he really liked the look on him. "You know what that means, right?"

Sam nodded and was already reaching for his clothes, which really was a shame-the kid had a fantastic ass, and Gabriel shamelessly took the opportunity to examine the full view with a hungry smirk. "Time for Phase Three."

"Yep, so hurry up and get dressed. We have ten minutes before that door is broken down, which means I have five minutes to prep the room and get us the hell out of dodge with a good head start."

"I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying," Sam mumbled, yanking his boxers on which were followed quickly by his jeans.

"Good man. You pack up, I'm gonna start on the sigils," Gabriel told him. Sam nodded absently, bending over to grab his shirt from the floor where it had been tossed by a horny archangel the night before. Grinning, Gabriel lightly slapped a hand against Sam's backside on his way past. Laughing merrily at his startled yelp, Gabriel got to work.

**"Sam and Gabriel's Epic Plot to Hook Their Brothers Up," Phase Three: Enforced Isolation**

* * *

_**Dean**_

Okay, so Dean was willing to admit that_ maybe _kicking the door down and brandishing his gun as he yelled, "Gabriel!" at the top of his lungs was a _bit _overkill. Maybe.

Cas trailed in after him languidly, looking around at the empty room with mild curiosity. Their stuff was there, but Sam and Gabriel's was gone. Dean glared at the uninhabited room as though it had personally offended him.

His irritation only increased tenfold when the door suddenly slammed shut, the sigil traced on the back of it glowing bright blue for a few seconds before fading to rusty red. It had obviously been drawn in blood.

"What the hell?" Dean muttered crossly, shoving his gun in the waistband of his jeans as he stalked over to examine it. He reached out to touch it lightly, frowning, only to withdraw his hand sharply with a yelp as the damned thing zapped him. Rubbing his tingling arm, Dean swore profusely at the once-more-glowing sigil. "Cas, can you tell what the hell this is?" he growled, stepping away.

Cas sighed and stepped closer, head tilting and eyes squinting slightly as he examined it. He pursed his lips and muttered "Unbelievable..." under his breath, shaking his head as he stepped back. "It is an Enochian binding sigil. It has both my name and yours personally branded into it, and Gabriel suffused it with his Grace." Cas frowned sullenly, moving away from the door.

"What the hell does it do?" Dean demanded, following Cas closer than he probably should have considering the amount of times he'd lectured Cas about personal space. But after seventeen days of finding himself in various intimate situations with the fallen angel, Dean found that he barely even noticed anymore.

Cas did, though. When he turned around, he seemed a bit startled to find Dean standing so close, sapphire eyes widening a fraction. Dean saw him swallow and the movement was familiar, and it was all he could do to keep from leaning down and closing the distance between them. Gritting his teeth, Dean balled his fists at his sides to prevent himself from reaching out to him. The angel's eyes darted down to note the action with a frown before his eyes moved back to Dean's face, pausing a fraction of a second too long at his lips (and causing a barely discernible hitch in Dean's breath) before meeting the hunter's gaze.

"It, um...it prevents us from leaving," Cas murmured, finally answering Dean's question. "I imagine that until Gabriel gets what he wants, we are trapped here," he added, something flickering in his eyes, there and gone too fast for Dean to decipher what it was, but whatever it was had the angel's eyes darkening in a way that made Dean's stomach tighten.

"What does he want, then?" Dean asked, startled by how hoarse his voice came out and suddenly realizing that as they'd been talking they'd subconsciously gravitated closer, bodies almost pressing together, and he barely managed to repress a shiver. His heart was pounding in his chest and he was sure Cas would be able to feel it.

"That's the million dollar question, Dean-o!" a familiar voice crowed, shattering the spell and dispelling the heat that had been building between hunter and former angel. They both lurched backwards, Cas looking faintly disappointed, Dean confused, a slight flush on his cheeks as he whipped his head around looking for the culprit.

The room was still empty. But the TV had turned on.

"Gabriel," Dean growled, hating the warmth he could feel in his face.

"Hey, Dean! Cassie." The archangel's face grinned smugly at them from the screen, and Dean could just see Sam behind him, looking amused but apprehensive. "How's it going, guys?"

"What the hell do you want?" the hunter snapped, jaw clenching, before Cas could reply.

"Oh, Dean, have you really not figured it out by now?" Gabriel smirked knowingly and Dean cursed under his breath as he felt his face flush an even brighter shade of red. "Surely you're not _that_ thick that I have to spell it out for you?"

Dean averted his gaze. "...we're in the middle of the Apocalypse, Gabriel, we don't have time for...this," Dean muttered, ignoring the fact that he could feel Cas' curious gaze on his face, searching his features.

"Well there won't be time after, I can tell you that, Dean. Besides, all the moping and brooding is getting just ridiculous. I'm sick of watching you two pine and pant after each other - it's gone past amusing to the point where it's just pathetic. So, until you have a nice long chat and work things out," Gabriel blithely ignored Dean's spluttering and Cas' confused protests, "you're not leaving that room. Sam and I will be honeymooning here on the beach, so feel free to take your time."

"Gabriel, please-"

The archangel cut across the former seraph's feeble plea. "I don't wanna hear it, Cassie. My mind is made up and you're not changing it. Have fun, lovebirds. Oh, and Dean?" Dean reluctantly raised his eyes to meet Gabriel's, hating that stupid smirk on his face. "Feel free to avail yourselves of the items in the drawers. I made sure you guys are well-equipped for any occasion." He winked and Dean decided he would not, under any circumstances, be going near the drawers. Before he could say as much, the screen went black, leaving Dean alone with Cas in the motel room.

* * *

"Dean-" The fallen angel began at the same time Dean mumbled, "Look, Cas-". They both broke off, glanced at each other nervously, and looked away. Cas fidgeted with his trench coat and Dean ran a hand through his hair.

It had been like this for hours, Dean and Castiel dancing around each other, unsure what to say. This was uncharted territory and each was unsure of himself, both teetering on the edge of some precipice but afraid to take that final step that would send them tumbling over, free-falling into something new and exhilarating terrifying.

Dean had had enough. He sat on the couch with a heavy sigh, waving Cas over. The ex-angel came closer hesitantly, leading Dean to make an impatient noise in the back of his throat and grab the sleeve of the familiar ratty trench coat, jerking him down next to him. Cas came with a yelp, falling against Dean, and the hunter had to chuckle as he placed a hand on Cas' shoulder to steady him.

Wide, unsure blue eyes looked up into gentle, resigned green. They stayed like that for a few moments, staring at each other, close enough that their breaths mingled and Dean could almost taste the now-familiar flavor of Castiel.

If he wanted to get through this, then he needed space, so he reluctantly sat up and scooted just a bit to the side, turning to face Castiel so his legs were somewhat of a barrier from Cas shuffling any closer.

"I guess I'm ready to talk if you are," Dean said wearily, scratching the back of his neck. Hope glinted in Cas' eyes, and it sparked something warm in Dean's chest.

"I believe that would be best," he agreed, nodding slowly. Then he folded his hands in his lap, fingers absently toying with the sleeves of his coat, obviously waiting for the hunter to start. Dean wanted to reach out and still his fidgeting, but he had to keep his hands to himself if they were going to get through this discussion, so he clenched his hands in his own lap and sighed again.

"Okay, you know damn well I'm not good at this...this chick-flicky, emotional crap, right?" he began. At the other man's nod, Dean continued, "Right, well...that being said, you should know that...uh, I kinda l-" He swallowed, unsure if he could get out _that _word just yet, hastily editing his phrasing, "like you. A lot, actually. I mean, you're...you're pretty awesome, Cas." He grinned sheepishly, feeling totally ridiculous and way out of his comfort zone.

Cas nodded slowly, his brow furrowing, seeming to consider his words carefully. "I feel very attached to you, Dean," he murmured in his gravelly voice, and Dean felt his stomach lurch. "In all my time I have never met another being that caused me to _feel _as much as you. Nor have I ever encountered someone who inspired me to change so greatly." He chuckled ruefully, a slight smile causing his lips to twitch upwards at the corners.

"Yeah? Is that...is that a good thing?" Dean asked, his tongue nervously darting out to wet his lips. He noticed Cas' eyes follow the movement and it made something hungry tighten in Dean's gut as the fallen angel nodded. "Well then, I'm...uh...glad." He cleared his throat, and his next sentence burst from him in a nervous rush. "So...um. Basically we're saying we like each other and wouldn't mind hooking up?"

He felt redness creeping up his face again as Cas' eyes crinkled in a rare grin. "I believe that to be a fair and accurate summation."

"Okay, cool. So, uh...we good here?"

"I believe so." The former angel's eyes darted to his lips again, and Dean felt a wave of guilt that he had all these memories of kissing Castiel while Cas didn't remember a single one of the last seventeen days. The thought that Cas couldn't remember any of what Dean considered some of their best times together had him curiously aching.

But...this didn't feel right. This scenario that Gabriel had forced them into made it all feel awkward and forced, and kissing him now, when Gabriel was probably watching them, would just be weird. So Dean swallowed and cleared his throat, causing Cas' eyes to dart back to his once more.

"Okay, this is going to be possibly the girliest thing I've ever said, and I want you to swear that it will never leave this room," he said, averting his eyes. A gentle grip forced his chin up and he found himself staring into gentle blue eyes full of devotion and longing.

"I give you my word, Dean," he promised solemnly, his thumb absently stroking along Dean's cheek. Heat swooped through Dean, the beginnings of arousal, and Dean felt the situation rapidly spinning out of his control. Grabbing Cas' hand with both of his, Dean pulled it from his face, though he didn't break eye contact and left their hands clasped together on the couch between them, thumb absently tracing over Cas' knuckles.

"Alright," Dean said hoarsely, staring unashamedly into Cas' eyes. "This..." he waved a hand absently to indicate the room and their situation. Cas' head tilted, waiting for him to continue, which he did after only a moment. "...it isn't real. It's a situation fabricated by Gabriel, to force us together. Our first time, Cas, I don't want it to be forced. You...you deserve more than a quick fuck in a cheap motel room because your dickhead brother locked us in. I want it to be because we both want it and because it feels right. So, I'm going to make you a promise, okay?"

Something like wonder was shining in those sapphire eyes, Cas' head ducked shyly as he inquired, "What promise, Dean?"

"After we sort out the apocalypse shit, we're going to go someplace nice - I'll let you pick," he said with a grin. "We'll take a break from hunting, from everything, and I'll show you a good time." He winked and grinned broadly at the blush that bloomed in Cas' pale cheeks when he caught the innuendo. He chuckled, but sobered after a moment. "Now...just isn't the right time for that. Sam needs me, and I just...I can't...not now," he said, and his voice cracked a little.

Castiel softened and nodded, his expression tender. "Of course, Dean...I understand." Dean sighed in relief and used his grip on Cas' hand to pull him close, the hunter wrapping his arms around the fallen angel's shoulders. Cas snuggled close against him, his arms circling Dean's waist, and Dean pressed his face into soft, slightly curly dark hair and inhaled the familiar scent of Cas, closing his eyes and allowing this to be enough, for now.

And if a tear or two leaked out of his eye to spill into Cas' hair, nobody but him needed to know that.

* * *

"Awwww, aren't you two just adorable!"

Dean jolted upright at the sudden intrusion, muscles tensing, his arms subconsciously tightening protectively around Cas. The ex-angel made a sleepy, vaguely pleased noise that had warmth and affection pooling in Dean's chest.

It took him a moment to realize that they'd fallen asleep snuggled on the couch.

It took him another moment after that to realize that they were no longer alone in the room.

Gabriel was standing in front of them, a smug grin on his face. Dean glared half-heartedly as he gently shook Cas' shoulder to wake him up. The fallen angel sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes and blinking in what Dean decided was an unfairly adorable manner. After a few seconds he looked up at Dean and smiled shyly, a delicate blush coloring his face, causing Dean to grin.

"Okay guys, seriously, I'm going to choke on the pheromones," Gabriel mocked, but there was genuine happiness in his eyes as he gazed at Cas' sleepy smile and Dean found he didn't have it in him to be pissed at the moment.

Then he realized that someone from their group was missing, and he frowned, his drowsy contentment vanishing as anxiety and dread took its place, a cold knot forming in his chest. "Where's Sam?" Dean demanded, sitting up abruptly.

"Still in our luxurious honeymoon suite by the beach," Gabriel informed him smugly. "He didn't want to pop in on you two with me, saying he'd rather 'avoid potential mental scarring'. Besides, he was pretty tired after we spent all day yesterday-"

"I really don't want to know," Dean said loudly, raising his hands in defeat with a disgusted grimace. Gabriel laughed.

"I was only going to say that we were _swimming, _Dean. Get your mind out of the gutter." The archangel grinned wolfishly at Dean's scowl. "Anyways, enough about our epic romantic affair. Did the lovebirds sort everything out?"

"We're fine, Gabriel," Dean growled. Cas came to stand by him and nodded, close by Dean's side. Dean hesitated only for a second before looping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him even closer, earning a pleasantly surprised noise from the former angel that had Dean grinning as he stated, "A bit better than fine, I guess."

"Goodie! Happy ending to our fairy tale!" Gabriel grinned, and then he was doing an absolutely _horrendous _rendition of some teen song about a love story, substituting Dean's name for Romeo and Cas' for Juliet. Dean cringed and threw his hands over his ears with a groan.

"IF YOU'RE THROUGH," Dean yelled over Gabriel (even Cas was grimacing when the archangel sang, "IT'S A LOVE STORY, CASSIE, JUST SAY YES!"), "can we go get my brother and stop the apocalypse now?"

Gabriel, thankfully, fell silent as he pouted at Dean a little, rolling his eyes. "It's always work, work, work with you. You have a bigger stick up your ass than Cas, I swear! _Fine, _but afterwards I'm insisting that we all take time off to go on vacation."

As the archangel snapped his fingers, Dean looked down into the blue eyes already seeking his gaze and murmured, "Sounds good to me." Cas lips curled in a faint smile as they vanished from the room.

* * *

The room they touched down in was ridiculously opulent, no doubt reflecting Gabriel's decadent tastes. The carpet was thick and fluffy looking, there was a mini-fridge undoubtedly full of sweets (and maybe a salad or some other rabbit-food for Sam), and everything was in shades of white and gold. There was a large bed that looked very rumpled (Dean wrinkled his nose and tried not to think of the cause of that), and there was a door that appeared to lead to a just-as-grand bathroom. There was even a balcony that overlooked the ocean.

What was not there, however, was Sam.

"Gabriel, where the hell is he?" Dean demanded, whirling to glare at the archangel. He felt a chill of foreboding creep down his spine at the confusion and slight worry on his face. _No no no, shit, please no..._

"I...I don't know. I can't sense him," Gabriel admitted slowly, looking ashamed.

Dean saw red. Before he could think he had a fistful of the archangel's shirt and he was yanking him close to growl in his face, "You mean to tell me you _lost_ my baby brother? You _promised_ you would take care of him, you arrogant _dick!"_ he yelled.

"I made a mistake, okay?!" Gabriel yelled back, shoving Dean off hard enough that he stumbled back several steps.

"What. Mistake?" His tone was cold, the voice that he usually used while shoving salt down the throat of the demon he was interrogating. Cas was looking at him in concern, chewing on his lip, but Dean couldn't afford to think of him right now - couldn't afford the all-consuming distraction of Castiel when his baby brother was God knows where.

"I was so focused on shielding us from Michael that...I forgot to block us against Lucifer." The archangel looked at him with chagrined, pitying eyes that had Dean's stomach clenching and he knew he was going to be sick. His mind was spinning and he knew his expression was blank as he stared with glassy eyes at Gabriel.

"What are you saying, Gabriel?" Castiel asked softly, and Dean wanted to scream. Didn't he get it? Please don't say it, if he didn't say it maybe it wasn't real, maybe this was all some nightmare and Dean was still asleep with Cas in that motel room and Sam was fine...

"I'm sorry, Dean...Lucifer has your brother."

* * *

**[A/N: Look at this, another chapter within 48 hours! Aren't you proud of me? Proud enough to leave a review? :D :D Oh and my offer on the last chapter still stands-I've only had one reviewer for it so far, so the next person to review chapter 5 (the previous chapter) gets to give me a prompt that I'll write up for them. If you want to find out more quickly what Sam's fate will be (CLIFF HANGER, DUN DUN DUUUUNNNNN), review. Seriously it helps me update faster when I get more feedback. And I would also love to see the reactions to the Destielness. Anyways, that's all. Review pretty please!]**

**-Makky**


	8. A Choice

**[A/N: Check it out, ****_another _****update! This is pretty impressive for me. I put this warning in my other story that I put up, but I'm not sure how many of y'all are reading that so I'll put it here too. I probably won't be updating much for the next couple of weeks (possibly even longer, I honestly don't know) for two reasons: 1) I'm going on a four-day camping trip with some kids at church (ugh) and we aren't allowed any electronics so we can "have a more spiritual experience", and 2) Afterwards I'm going to come out to my parents, and I'm not sure how they'll react but I'm sort of expecting the worst, so if I vanish from the face of the earth for a while that's why. I'll be leaving for my camping trip on Saturday, so we'll see what happens between now and then.]**

**[This chapter is mostly from Sam's perspective until the end, and there are some slight Samifer elements but the primary ship will still be Sabriel.]**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

_**Sam**_

It was dark, and cold. Sam was huddled in the corner of the room, shivering and wishing for some light, or a weapon, or for Gabriel. Wishing to wake up and find that this was just another nightmare.

He didn't know where he was.

He didn't know how the demons had found him when Gabriel's Grace was protecting them.

What he _did _know was that he hurt all over. The demons that had kidnapped him had really done a number on his body. His ribs in particular were aching something fierce, and he thought that at least one of them was cracked if not broken. His legs were starting to go numb from the zip-ties cinched tightly around his ankles, and he'd long since rubbed his wrists raw from the ropes around his wrists, preventing him from attempting to escape. All of this, combined with the vulnerability of being unable to see in the dark room he was locked away in, left Sam feeling very afraid.

Wrapping his lanky arms his legs, Sam focused on breathing - ignoring the sharp protest from his ribs - and tried to stay calm. He closed his eyes, not that it made much difference, and tried once more to pray to his archangel. He'd been doing so since the demons came, but he had a sinking feeling that Gabriel couldn't hear him because he wasn't answering, and there was no way that he would ignore Sam if he could hear him.

There wasn't much else he could do, though, so Sam closed his eyes and called out with his whole soul, pleading for the archangel to find him.

He was met with silence, interrupted only by his own ragged breaths. Exhaling slowly, a shaky sound that wasn't quite a sigh, the young Winchester tilted his head back until it was against the wall behind him.

There was nothing for him to do but wait.

It could have been minutes or hours later - time was hard to gauge when nothing changed - that the door opened, the faint light streaming in from the hallway blinding him after nothing but darkness. Squinting, Sam made out a silhouette of a person standing in the doorway. Tensing, Sam glared as the figure approached him.

With a low chuckle, the figure crouched in front of him, the dim light behind him leaving him in shadow. He placed a hand on his knee that the hunter recoiled from as much as he could, given he was in the corner. "Hello, Sam," he murmured in a soothing baritone voice.

Sam had barely opened his mouth when the man was pulling out a knife that gleamed in the weak light from the hall, causing panic to shoot through the young hunter. He tried to knock it away, but this just earned him a patronizing-sounding chuckle as the man's free hand held his wrist in an impossibly strong grip. Sam struggled but the guy was wicked strong, and the way he was tied limited his freedom of movement, so all his effort earned him was a small nick on the wrist as the ropes were cut away.

Wait, what?

Confused, Sam stared at his now-freed hands, flexing them with a slight wince and watching warily as the ties on his ankles were similarly cut.

"There, now, isn't that better?" the voice almost crooned, and something about it just sent a shudder up Sam's spine. "Don't worry, Sam, they won't hurt you again so long as I'm here. I'll be sure you're taken care of until you're ready." He patted the top of the hunter's head, causing Sam to send him a bitchface that was unfortunately lost in the dark, before standing and heading back towards the door.

"Ready for what?" Sam called after him in a voice slightly hoarse from disuse, trying to rub the feeling back into his legs. He heard a click and blinked as light flooded the room. His blood run cold as he found himself staring into the smiling pale blue eyes of the devil.

"Ready to say yes, Sam," he replied.

He was gone before Sam could respond.

* * *

After what felt like hours of pacing later, Lucifer returned with a tray of food that had Sam's mouth watering as the smell wafted over to him, his stomach rumbling appreciatively. The fallen angel chuckled quietly, gently kicking the door shut behind him.

"Hungry, Sam?"

The hunter snorted, ignoring the hollow ache in his stomach - he hadn't eaten all day. "Yeah, like I'd eat any food you offer me. You're probably trying to roofie me or something."

Seemingly genuine hurt filled those blue eyes as he looked at Sam in offense. "Sam, I would never hurt you. You're my one true vessel." His eyes raked hungrily over Sam's body as he spoke, causing the hunter to shudder slightly. "To ruin that would be a tragedy."

Sam waited until the angel looked at him, jaw slightly tensed, before saying in a terse voice, "I won't say yes to you, Lucifer. And you can't keep me here forever."

Rather than being worried, Lucifer looked amused. "Oh? And why can't I?" he asked, striding closer. Sam backed away, but he didn't stop, so the hunter found himself with his back pressed against the wall, the angel directly in front of him, almost pressing against him. Heart pounding, Sam glared down into pale blue eyes and wondered what it was with angels about invading personal space.

Sam opened his mouth to respond but his entire train of thought ground to a halt when he felt a hand sliding up his thigh. A strangled gasp caught in his throat, and he barely processed the angel crooning in his ear, "Sam, Sammy, my Sam - the things I could do to you. I could make you _scream _and _beg, _and you would be powerless to stop me." His lips grazed the sensitive flesh of Sam's ear and Sam shuddered, fear pulsing through him in time with his racing heart. Dazed, he discovered that his hands were on Lucifer's chest, pushing lightly.

"Lucifer," Sam said, hating how weak and shaky his voice had become, "get off of me..."

"Is that _really _what you want, Sam?" he asked.

Sam almost spat out the "yes" building in his throat, desperate for some space, and caught himself just in time. Glaring at Lucifer, he nodded emphatically, pushing again with his hands for emphasis. He shuddered again when thin fingers wound their way into his hair, a strangled gasp of "Lucifer!" escaping without his permission. The fallen archangel chuckled.

"Oh, Sam, you know you want to say yes - it would be pleasant for you if you did, I'd make sure of it. One little word, Sam. Say yes to me." He was whispering in Sam's ear, ignoring the hunter's feeble head-shakes, capturing his earlobe lightly with teeth and dragging across the tender skin in a way that had Sam shuddering, a soft groan escaping his throat. Humiliation turned his face scarlet as Lucifer laughed softly and he shoved again.

"I'm not saying yes, now _get off of me._" He meant it to be a demand but it came out as more of a plea.

"I won't force you into anything, Sam," he murmured, his hands sliding slowly up the hunter's chest before he moved back with a low chuckle. "But I'm eagerly awaiting your yes."

Sam swallowed, relieved that the angel was no longer in his personal space, finding it a bit easier to breathe. They stared at each other for a few moments, angel amused, hunter wary.

"I won't say yes to you," Sam almost spat, but the declaration lacked the force he'd have liked to inject it with. "Eventually, Dean or Gabe will find out wherever you have me, and they'll bust me out. We'll stop you."

Lucifer started laughing. "Oh, Sam, you think I don't know that your brother and mine would come for you? I'm _counting _on it." He grinned maliciously and Sam felt like the air was slowly being sucked from the room.

"Why would you...?"

Lucifer was explaining before he could even finish the question. "If you won't say yes to me because you want to, then maybe you'll say yes to keep them safe." He smirked as Sam's eyes widened in alarm. "This is the trap - you're the bait. Say yes now, and I'll not touch them. Deny me again, and I'll have everyone you care about ripped to pieces."

Sam gaped at him, something in his chest aching. "Y-you wouldn't..."

"Do you really think that, Sam? More importantly, do you want to find out?" Lucifer tilted his head suddenly, eyes narrowing slightly, seeming to listen to something only he could hear, before a cold grin broke across his features. "I'd decide quick, Sam - they're right outside."

Panic ripped through Sam. He couldn't let anything happen to Gabe or Dean, or Cas for that matter. Staring into those icy blue eyes, the hunter had no doubt that he could and _would _kill them if Sam kept defying him, probably in front of Sam. He hesitated in indecision, and the angel shrugged, turning away and walking towards the door.

"Tick tock, Sammy. Say yes now, or I'll go deal with them."

Something in Sam shriveled as he strode across the room, grabbing Lucifer's shoulder to stop him. The angel halted, turning slightly to look at him with a smirk.

"Made up your mind, have you?"

Swallowing, Sam nodded slowly. "Yes," he whispered.

* * *

_**Dean**_

"You know it's probably a trap, right?" Gabriel said from the back seat, absently tapping his fingers against his thigh anxiously.

"Of course it's a trap. Doesn't matter. Sam is in there, and we're getting him out," Dean said stonily, fists clenched on the steering wheel. Cas glanced at him worriedly from the passenger seat.

It had been about six hours ago, each of them buried in research trying to track down the Devil in the hopes that wherever he was, Sam would be too, when Gabriel had announced that he could sense Sam. Lucifer was holding him in Detroit, Michigan.

They would have been here two hours ago if Cas hadn't wasted precious time arguing with Dean about the wisdom of charging in, guns blazing, without a plan.

Now, they were sitting outside of a run-down house with the windows coated in ice. Gabriel and, more faintly, Cas could sense Lucifer's presence inside, but there were demons guarding the perimeter. Dean was itching to just go and gank the black-eyed sons of bitches, but the angels were more hesitant. They feared that Lucifer had something up his sleeve that would complicate matters.

Dean was opening his mouth to try, again, to convince them that they couldn't afford to wait any longer, when brilliant white light exploded from every window in the house. Yelling in alarm, Dean threw open his door and was racing across the street without even thinking. He heard Cas scrambling and Gabriel cursing, and he saw the demons rushing at him, but he didn't care. He slipped past them and could hear the screams as the angels took care of them. Dean was more worried about Sam at the moment.

He kicked the door down and yelled, "Sam!" as he rushed inside, pulling the demon-killing blade from where it was tucked in his belt. The white light was fading, but Dean could see that it was emanating from a room down the hall. He raced towards it and kicked that door in, too.

His baby brother was kneeling on the floor in the center of the room, hands braced on the floor, hair in his face as his shoulders shook silently.

"Sam," he said in relief, tucking the knife away again as he skidded to Sam on his knees. Tentatively, Dean touched his shoulder. "Sam?"

"Not quite," Sam murmured, lifting his head slowly to look at Dean. His eyes were _wrong. _Coldly amused, not at all like the warm passionate expressions that Sam always exhibited. Dean's blood ran cold as realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Sam said yes," he muttered numbly, shocked.

"I don't know what they mean when they say Sam's the smarter one, you seem to catch on quickly," Lucifer said using Sam's mouth, a harsh smile tilting the corners up in a very un-Sam-like expression that had Dean's stomach twisting with revulsion. Lucifer stood slowly and Dean scrambled to follow the motion, watching uncomfortably as he stretched Sam's body and made a quiet, pleased sound. "Sam, though, has a _lovely_ body. Fits like a glove, much better than Nick." He sounded satisfied and Dean thought he might puke.

"Are you going to kill us now?" Dean whispered, hoping that if he kept his voice quiet then the Devil wouldn't notice the faint trembling in his tone.

He fought a shudder when Lucifer laughed. "Tempting, but no."

"Why not?" Dean's words were mechanical because he couldn't feel anything. Everything inside him had shut down, gone numb.

"I made Sam a promise, and I honor my promises." He tilted his head for a moment, seeming to listen to something only he could hear, before smirking. "Sam sends his apologies."

Dean blinked and was surprised to feel a flicker of heat lick at his insides, anger threatening to dispel the numbness at the words. Lucifer smirked at him again before turning for the door.

"You'd better kill me." The words fell past numb lips before Dean could stop them. He barely noticed he was shaking, his tone harsh and ragged.

The angel wearing his brother paused, arching an eyebrow at him. "Pardon?"

"You better kill me now. Or I swear, I will find a way to kill you." The promise felt empty, lacking heart and heat, and Dean thought maybe Lucifer could see that because he only smiled.

"I know you won't. Because you can't kill Sam, and he and I are now one and the same. And I know you won't say yes to Michael, either. You're too prideful. No matter what you do, Dean, you can't stop me. I win. So, I win."

"You're wrong," Dean said shakily.

A small smirk adorned his face once more as the Devil turned to go. "I'll be seeing you, Dean." Before Dean could say another word, there was a faint rustle of unseen wings and he was gone, leaving Dean alone.

Dean fell to his knees, exhaling raggedly, the burning in his eyes warning him of the tears threatening to fill them. "Sam," he whispered.

It was no use. Sam was gone.

* * *

**[A/N: So I need your guys' help. I originally had exactly one ending for this, and I could easily still do that ending, but I'm not sure how you guys would feel about it. And today I realized that there are some alternative options for how this happens and I want to know which you guys would prefer. I'm going to give the options without spoiling the ending completely, and I want you guys to vote. Here's what could happen without too much detail:**

**Option 1 - Lucifer dies (This would be a very bittersweet ending for reasons that would come to light later, and the original ending I was planning on)**

**Option 2 - God comes back and drags Lucifer from Sam and back to Heaven to deal with him**

**Option 3 - Gabriel gets Lucifer out of Sam and throws Lucifer back into the cage**

**That's as much as I can reveal. So, now I need your guys' input. The polls are open! Y'all have until I eventually get back from my temporary hiatus (see A/N at the beginning of the chapter) to register your opinion.]**


	9. The Beginning Of The End

**[A/N: Wow I am the literal worst. I will be truly amazed if anyone is still reading this, but here it is, I finally got around to updating.]**

* * *

**Chapter 8**

**_Dean_**

"You've been looking for weeks. Where the hell is he?" Dean demanded, glaring at Gabriel as Cas physically held him back from swinging at the archangel (which he knew would hurt like a bitch, but he figured the satisfaction would be worth it).

"I told you, chucklehead, I don't know!" Gabriel retorted, eyes shining like gold fire as he glared back. "I've been looking and _looking,_ but there's no sign of him. We'll only find him when he wants to be found." Guilt and anger warred for dominance on the archangel's features, and it was clearly killing him as much as it was the hunter that they couldn't find Sam/Lucifer. And suddenly Dean just couldn't take another second of this - the doubt, the anger, the sorrow, the confusion. He needed to get away.

Dean wrenched away from Cas angrily to storm outside. There was a cold wind blowing that stung his eyes and had him shoving his hands in his pockets as he made for the Impala, sliding into the driver's seat and leaning his head against the wheel and closing his eyes. The cool leather was familiar and soothing, but not enough to calm the anger and aching burning in his chest. For once Dean had no desire to switch on one of his tapes - he just wanted to sit here in the cold and the silence until it swallowed him up so he could just stop _feeling._

"I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing," Dean whispered to the emptiness around him, to himself, feeling the now-familiar sting in his eyes that meant he was fighting back tears. Since he was alone, and felt no shame crying about the loss of his brother (in private, at least), Dean let a few drops fall before scrambling for his usual composure, taking in deep ragged breaths through his nose.

He didn't open his eyes when he heard the rustle of feathers next to him, though he could feel Cas staring at him. He just couldn't face the angel right now. During the last month, Cas had been his one constant, always there when Dean needed him - whether Dean wanted him there or not - but Dean had been avoiding talking about It. He knew they would have to, sooner or later. But right now Dean had to focus on saving his brother. Anything else was a distraction he couldn't afford, so any girly feelings he might have for Castiel got shoved into a box in the back of his mind to be dealt with later.

"Dean?" The gravelly voice was tentative. He rarely initiated conversation, not wanting to bother Dean or push him, possibly scare him away.

The hunter sighed raggedly. "What is it, Cas?" he mumbled, sitting back, still without opening his eyes. He had a feeling that if he met that piercing gaze right now he'd fall apart, and he didn't know if he'd be able to piece himself back together. He had to hold on - for Sam. For the whole damn world, really.

"I was thinking..." Again, he hesitated.

"About?" Dean prompted tiredly, cracking his eyes slightly to peer at the angel beside him. Cas was staring out the window, looking unhappy.

"Well...I think I might know of a way for us to find Sam."

Dean sat up abruptly, now staring intently at the side of Castiel's face. "What? And you're just mentioning this now?"

Cas glanced at him with a grimace. "I don't think you'll like it. I certainly don't," he mumbled, and Dean wasn't sure if he was meant to hear that last part, so he chose to ignore it for now, though he had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"Cas come on, you know I'll do anything to save Sam." He grabbed Cas' arm and squeezed tightly, looking imploringly at the angel when he met Dean's gaze with a sad smile. "Tell me."

Cas sighed. "I do know of your devotion to Sam. My thought was...if you were to say yes to Michael, he could trace Lucifer." Dean opened his mouth to protest, shocked that Cas would even suggest that, but Cas hurried on before he could get a word out. "It makes sense, Dean. And Gabriel and I could follow and maybe force Lucifer out of Sam, and Michael out of you. We might be able to save him - "

"Or I could end up in a fight to the death with my brother!" Dean snapped, cutting him off. "That's a terrible idea, Cas, no!"

Cas gave him a sad look. "It's the only one we have, Dean. It's the only chance we have to save Sam."

* * *

"I still can't believe you talked me into this," the hunter grumbled, crossing his arms.

"It will work, Dean," Cas insisted, though he sounded half-hearted, like he didn't really believe it.

"But - "

"Oh enough arguing, let's get this show on the road already!" Gabriel broke in impatiently. Dean and Cas looked away from each other. There were so many words still unspoken between them - Dean knew this could be his last chance to say them, and he knew that Cas knew. But Dean was terrible with words, and there was no way he was going into a major chick-flick moment when Gabriel was there. So instead Dean rested his hands on Cas' shoulder, waiting until the angel looked at him to offer a small smile.

"I'm coming back," he promised.

"I know." Cas didn't look sure at all, but he smiled back. Dean squeezed his shoulder and felt his stomach tighten with nerves. He leaned over to brush his lips against Cas' temple before pulling away, avoiding looking at the angel as he stepped away so he wouldn't lose his resolve. Gabriel took Dean's place by his brother's side, patting his arm reassuringly. They both watched the hunter with worry and just a bit of hope, praying to their long-absent father that this would work.

"Let's do this." Dean took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. "Hey, Michael - you got your ears on? This is Dean Winchester, and I'm saying yes. You hear me you son of a bitch? Yes! My answer is ye - " His words were cut off with a sudden cry of pain as Dean fell to his knees.

There was no warning. One minute he was speaking to empty air, the next all he could see was white light. All he could hear was a high-pitched ringing, buzzing sound that filled his head until he felt like it was going to explode. Every inch of his being was filled with this...presence, that crushed and burned and tore at the very essence of Dean Winchester. It was worse than any torture he'd endured in Hell. Distantly he could hear Castiel yelling his name, but it was barely audible over the musical voice murmuring to his consciousness.

_Well well, this is a surprise, Dean. _Vaguely, Dean recognized Michael, but he couldn't quite focus through the haze of agony that he felt sure was slowly killing him.

_Oh Dean, I know it hurts, but that's because you're still fighting me. Accept me, and this will be a much more pleasant process. Well, less painful for you, anyways._

_**Get out of my head! **_Dean tried to yell, but his vocal cords were no longer his. He couldn't move, couldn't speak - he was no longer in control. Terror gripped Dean, and he struggled wildly but he couldn't even twitch a finger.

_I'm sorry, Dean. But you've already said yes to me. It's time to fulfill our destiny together. Let's go find our brothers, shall we?_

Dean wanted to protest. He wanted to cry for Castiel and Gabriel, he wanted to scream. He wanted to be in control of his own damn body. But he'd given that up on the slim chance he might be able to save his little brother, and now he had to pay the price.

The last thing Dean saw before his will crumbled was the tear-filled eyes of Castiel, the last thing he heard was the angel he loved crying his name. Then the fire of Michael's Grace consumed him, and Dean fell into darkness.

* * *

_**Castiel**_

He threw Gabriel's arms off of him, swiping absently at the tears falling from his vessel's eyes. "We have to go after them, Gabriel!"

"I know, Cassie, I know. But we don't know where Michael flew off to, and...Cas...I know you felt it, too." The archangel's voice was uncharacteristically gentle. Both angels had sensed Michael's Grace, much more powerful than either had expected, and had felt Dean's consciousness fading before Michael had vanished.

"No. _No. _Dean is not lost. He's just...he's been temporarily over-powered by Michael, that's all." He hadn't lost Dean - after all they'd been through, he knew how strong Dean was. He knew the hunter could withstand Michael. Besides, he'd promised he would come back and Dean always kept his promises. "He's coming back, Gabriel," the young former Seraph insisted, but his voice was almost a plea for reassurance.

Gabriel hesitated. "I'm sure he is, kiddo. But we don't know what state he'll be in after Michael vacates the premises. Are you ready for that?"

"I'm getting Dean back," Cas said stubbornly. "We have to follow him, Gabriel. He'll take us to Lucifer and then we can...we can..."

Gabriel sighed. "We'll stop them from killing each other, Castiel. Somehow. For now, let's focus on finding them."

Cas nodded and reached with his Grace, joining it with Gabriel's. As their essences intertwined their power grew, and they could sense their older brothers like a lighthouse in the dead of night, guiding them to the hunters they'd lost and still hoped to save. Together, the brothers honed in on their destination and, with only a flap or two of their wings, they were on their way.

* * *

**_Gabriel_**

He had a bad feeling. As he and Castiel shifted through time and space, flying towards their feuding brothers, Gabriel just knew that this wasn't going to be a happy ending. He had hope, but facts were facts and the odds did not look good.

So Gabriel did something he hadn't done in a long time, not since he fled his home and changed his identity to escape the war his family had taken up.

He prayed to his Father.

_O Father, I don't know if you're listening - actually, I bet you are. But I don't know if you particularly care about the prayer of the prodigal son. What I do know is that you care about the Winchesters, and about this planet. You care about the humans and don't want to see their world destroyed. So wherever you are, whatever you're doing, Father, I beg of you - help us. Give us the strength to save our boys so they can save the world. I don't ask much but I'm asking you this. Father, please. Help us._

The archangel had no idea if his prayer had been heard, or if it would be answered. Experience led him to believe the answer was no, but hope - that damnable idea that he could never quite squash - had him thinking that maybe all wasn't lost.

His hope was crushed when he and Castiel landed in the field and the first thing he saw was Sam (Lucifer) stepping on Dean's (Michael's) throat, a cold grin on his face.

* * *

**A/N: So...hey, guys. I'm sorry I didn't update this sooner, I just lacked inspiration. I'm not even sure how I feel about this chapter. Is anyone even still reading this? I know I've been gone for a while but hopefully I didn't lose you guys due to the hellatus. How are y'all doing? I've been downright terrible but I'm back and god does it feel good to be feeding my fanfiction needs again. I missed this website so much you don't even know. *sigh* Anyways, this fic is probably only gonna have like 2 maybe 3 more chapters, and then an epilogue and it'll all be over. From what I saw, everyone seemed to be torn between two options but the only common one was option 2, so I'll be going with that one. God saves the day - should be fun, right? Right. I guess that's all. Please review!]**


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